


Dust Devils - A Girls Und Panzer Story

by AAHW



Category: Girls und Panzer
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Sensha-dou | Tankery, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2020-12-28 06:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 72
Words: 436,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21132104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAHW/pseuds/AAHW
Summary: From the sands of the Mojave, Valarie Woodlin of Mojave Rose High School has been a passionate fan of the sport of tankery. For so long, she could only be a fan. No longer. Before the hot sun would set, she went from passionate fan to dedicated participant as her school revives its old tankery team. Follow her alongside her friends as they embark on the journey of a lifetime.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Reader,
> 
> This is the first fanfiction that I have ever published anywhere on the internet. I encourage you to leave feedback once you have finished reading. I enjoy creating stories and want to improve, so, if you spot anything I can work on, I would love to know. This story is set in the Girls Und Panzer universe, following the Tankery exploits of an American High School. For those who love reading about their favorite characters, such as Miho Nishizumi and Yukari Akiyama, rest assured that those characters, and others, will have their time in the sun. I cannot exactly say when they will appear. I have not mapped out the full story yet. I can only hope I can make the journey worthwhile.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> P.S
> 
> If you spot an grammar errors, let me know so I can fix them promptly.

_Barstow, California. _

_ Friday October 19th, 2012 _

The winds of the desert echoed throughout the area. The moon has already sunk beneath the horizon yet the sun has not yet awoke. Barstow is not a city immediately thought of when one thinks of California, yet it exemplifies one of its notable characteristics; the sweltering heat. Even in October, a ninety degree day is not unusual in the slightest. Among the many homes coated in a fine layer of sand, one had a peculiarity. This home had a solitary window light and within was a young teenage girl, busily preparing for school. The oddity here was that on any other day, Valarie Woodlin would still be fast asleep, only begrudgingly getting ready for class at the last possible moment.

Today was not a normal day.

For today was the final match of Japan’s national Tankery tournament. Ooarai Girl’s Academy and Kuromorimine were about to wage battle. It will be tense! It will be action packed! Ooarai fights for its very survival! And Valarie is the only person in town who knows about it and gives a damn. Foreign Tankery matches don’t get much attention outside its home country, if it gets any at all. 

Valarie was already dressed in her school attire and, thanks to waking early enough, has managed to brushed the rat’s nest that is her hair. She looked at her reflection in her mirror. At 5'8, she was nearly the height of her mirror. She also gazed at her black hair, just flowing past her shoulders. It was a rarity for Valarie to tame her hair. She also looked at the paleness of her skin. Her summer tan was gone. She missed it. Kind of. She then opened her laptop and tapped away. She went to a Japanese website and the text, as one would expect, was in Japanese. Her browser’s auto-translate feature did a rough conversion to English. Didn’t need to be perfect. Just enough to get the context.

_ Ooarai v. Kuromorimine - 12 PM _

12 P.M for Japan. 8 P.M for Valarie. She would have to get through the day, tempering her excitement. She peaked at her phone.

_ 5:55 AM _

She had some time to kill. She left her room and head straight for the kitchen. From the window overlooking the sink, Valarie noticed the approaching rays of the rising sun. She didn’t need to feel them. In her bones, she could tell that today was going to be a hot one. Grabbing a slice of cold leftover pizza from the fridge, she plopped herself on the couch and turned on the television. Mostly for background noise, she was browsing her phone as she munched on her breakfast. As she was doing so, her dad called. She answered promptly.

“Hey dad!”

“Morning sweetheart, you sound awfully awake.”

“Yup. Having breakfast right now.”

“Really? You woke early enough to have a meal? Never thought I’d see the day…”

“Real comedian aren’t ya dad? Anyway, where are you headed right now?”

“Huntsville. Just crossed into Alabama half an hour ago”

“Cool. Always good to hear your voice dad. Love you lots!”

“Love you too, have a good day!”

The call concluded. Valarie’s dad was a trucker by trade and the job demanded that he be on the road regularly. But when he is at home, they make the most of this irregular free time. Hangouts. Walks. Trips. The occasional movie. Anything to spend time. Her mother works more close to home. She has already left for her job in the pitch black on the morning at a local welding shop. Welders and truckers make good money. Most of the time. Valarie’s parents combined paychecks are only just enough to pay for their home and its associated necessities. Any surplus is put away for a rainy day and it seems, even in the desert, it rains more than Valarie’s family would like. The aging family car was the most common culprit, the vehicle seemed to sense when the savings would get big enough and demand an emergency repair. And when it wasn’t the car it was something else. On the rare occasion when things hold themselves together, the family can splurge a little. Much luck when they got Valarie a smartphone a year prior and earlier this year, a laptop. Sure, each was the cheapest model available but Valarie loved and cherished them. They have received daily use ever since. 

Finished with her breakfast, Valarie paid mind to the television. The early morning local news was on. 

“...the President is on his way to Austin for a campaign stop. Now, news on the high seas. More environmentalist groups have backed the Mother Earth Initiative in their condemnation of the wide-use of school ships due to their impact on the world’s oceans. ABC11 reporter James Taft spoke with the leader of a Los Angeles Chapter of the Initiative.”

“These school ships…” spoke Kasey Brennan, leader of the L.A Initiative chapter

“...belch out pollutants at a rate exponentially worse than cruise ships. The ‘ship’ part is bad enough but we also have to take into account that these vessels host entire cities on them. Combined, it's a nightmare” 

“School ships are a tradition that goes back to the Ancient Greeks and the concept was modernized by the British in the 19th century” reported James Taft. 

“Ms. Brennan has also spoke on how countries need to go back to the time where high schools and colleges were land bound. The Mother Earth Initiative has chapters all over the globe”. Taft concluded. 

The news segment was over and the anchors have moved on to the next topic. Valarie couldn’t help but smirk. Her district was far too poor to have a school ship of their own. Like she ever cared much. Valarie was indifferent about the sea, never have visited California’s idyllic beaches. With school ships becoming more controversial, she was interested to see where the debate will go. 

She glanced at the time

_ 6:25 A.M _

Time to head out for the bus stop. 

Though the Tankery match was over ten hours away, the excitement on her face was already apparent and showed no signs of going away. Tankery was a sport that has totally captivated her since she watched old matches on VHS tapes. Since then, she has devoured any information even remotely related to the sport. Books, articles, footage, play-by-play commentaries, interviews with crew members, if tanks were involved, she knew about it. 

So hungry for Tankery that Valarie looked internationally to learn how other countries did it. That is how learned about Japan’s Tankery match and of Ooarai’s fight to exist. She’s a sucker for underdog stories. In Japan, Ooarai’s match was the biggest sports news in the country. Outside her borders...not so much. 

Miho Nishizumi, one of Ooarai’s commanders, has been a sort of favorite for Valarie. Her strategy on the battlefield has amazed her. The way she managed to get out of tight situations sent Valarie over the moon. Ooarai’s match was Pravda was one that will stick with her for a lifetime. How it ended still gave her goosebumps when she thought of it. 

A brisk walk later and she was at the bus stop. The such has breached the horizon and as the light hits her skin, her prediction has come true; it’ll be hot today. Sat on the bench, Valarie let herself zone out while waiting for the bus. A few minutes elapsed but she snapped back to reality when the sound of an engine filled the air. 

But it wasn’t the bus.

The noise of this mystery machine was clearly a diesel, being the daughter of a trucker, Valarie has become very familiar with diesel engines. But this particular engine was...different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what vehicle this engine belonged to. 

The noise grew in volume as it got closer, but frustratingly, a wall existed between her and this vehicle. It obscured her view. She heard a new sound new, the heavy creaking of metal. 

_ “Is that what I think it is?” _Valarie thought to herself. Her thinking was brief as the loud honk of the bus jolted her to attention. She boarded promptly. 

“Daydreaming are we?” teased Gus the bus driver.

“Ah..yes. I was. Good morning Gus.”

“Mornin’ Val. Nice change of pace not seeing you running in my rear view mirror”

“Today just seems like a good day for firsts.”

“True that! Take your seat please.”

Valarie took her preferred spot at the rear of the bus. As it drove on, her mind returned to the vehicle that she heard. There was a certain familiarity to it. It reminded her of her Tankery tapes. 

But would a tank really be here?

She found it hard to believe. If a tank was here, surely, she would’ve noticed. At least, that is what she thinks. If only that wall wasn’t there…

The bus made a stop and a group of students boarded. Valarie scanned the crowd and matched her eyes with another girl. She'd recognize that brunette anywhere. Her best friend is here. She headed straight toward Valarie and sat beside her. The pair first met in the second grade and have been inseparable ever since. At 5'4, she was considerably shorter than Valarie. A focal point of Valarie's playful teasing.

“Hey...Wow! You actually look like someone who put effort in themselves!” Emma Gray said in a teasing tone.

“Guess that makes two comedians…”

“So, is that tank match you keep talking about today? I tried finding info but I got nothing.”

“It is!” Valarie exclaimed excitedly. 

While Emma was looking forward to the match and did have some interest in Tankery, her feelings toward the sport were utterly dwarfed by Valarie’s. For nearly the entirety of their friendship, Valaire has spoken endlessly about Tankery. This has never perturbed Emma as she loved the enthusiasm in Valaire’s words. The days where Valarie discussed at length and passionately on some Tankery topic were her favorites. Her emotion was infectious. 

“I’ll send you a link to watch. I found a good site streaming site” Valarie replied. 

“Cool. Cool. What time?”

“8 P.M”

“Not too late...how long will the match be?

“Depends on a lot of things”

Emma reclined in her seat and nodded

“Good thing its Friday.”

The two girls rambled on concerning a whole host of different topics. The bus has arrived at school and all of the passengers disembarked. The pair remained close as they walked onto campus. They shared a quick embrace and went to their respective classes. They did not share the same schedule so they would not reunite until lunch. 

Valaire’s morning class was history and, while normally her favorite subject, today she couldn’t focus. With the tankery match and the mystery vehicle, her mind was much too occupied. It’s going to be a long day, she could feel it. Waiting outside the classroom, students arrived piecemeal and soon congregated around the door. The teacher arrived and the day started in earnest. Each 45 minute class felt like a 45 hour endeavor. The hands on a clock moving at a fraction of a snail’s pace. 

But time truly seemed to stand still when she was in chemistry

Valarie. Loathed. Chemistry

Broadly, science is something that Valarie did okay in. With sufficient studying, she’d pass like in any other subject. But chemistry was another beast entirely. She just couldn’t grasp it. The words of her chemistry teacher rang in her mind.

“The subject is tough, but when you get that ‘A-ha!’ moment, its gets clear”

_ “Where’s my damn ‘A-Ha!’ moment?!” _Valarie screamed internally.

The fact that she accidentally torched herself with a Bunsen burner may have contributed to her hatred. The class was just soul-sucking. The teacher was nice, at least. Silver linings. At the beginning of the class, a worksheet was passed out. The room was filled with the noise of pen and pencil hitting paper. Valaire’s pencil was motionless. Already used to this feeling of incompetence, she has mastered feigning work to not attract attention. Eventually, time normalized and lunch has finally arrived. The courtyard was jam packed. Valarie walked around and rested at a relatively isolated spot underneath a tree. It gave some respite from the warm sun. Not a particularly hungry person, her lunch merely composed of a small bag of chips along with some water. Soon enough, Emma appeared right behind.

“Hiya. How was chem?”

“Oh you know. Depressing.”

“So...you think you’re gonna-”

“Pass?” Valarie interrupted.

“Doubtful”. 

She put her hands on her face.

“I’m gonna repeat it next year. Calling it now”

Emma sympathetically rubbed Valaire’s shoulders. 

“Oh you’ll pass. I’ll help you”

Her words were comforting but deep inside a crevice in her mind, self-doubt remained entrenched. For now, however, she had more current things to tend to. The pair ate and chatted together. Lunch has always composed of the two even though the courtyard was a cacophonous environment of students talking, laughing, and yelling, Valaire and Emma were in their own world. From Valaire’s peripheral, she could hear the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned and it wasn’t a student who was coming towards them, but the vice principal, Martin Redwood.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Valarie said sarcastically

Redwood chucked. 

“No, you ain’t in trouble. Though I am happy to find you. I have some news to share with you.

The girls look at each other with a mixture of confusion and eagerness. 

“Go on.”

“Alright check this out. Since the American Tankery Tournament is a few months away, the State of California is giving millions in grants to districts to build up their teams.”

“Wow!”

“...and our district got one!”

Valaire was bubbling with excitement. She couldn’t believe this was happening. 

“Our school was allocated enough funding for a team, and since it's no secret that you are a massive Tankery fan…”

Her arms twitched.

“This school would be happy to have you as our first member of the new Tankery Team!”

Valaire jumped from her seat and gave Redwood a huge hug.

“Ohmygod!. ThankyouThankyouThankyou!”

She turned toward Emma and pointed.

“Join me!”

The excitement in the air has took hold of Emma. 

“Yeah!” she replied eagerly.

Redwood wrote on his clipboard.

“Alright...Valaire Woodlin and...Emma Gray. Okay girls. This means a lot.”

The girls clasped hands and giggled uncontrollably

“Now ladies…” Redwood said in a hushed tone.

“This here was an informal announcement. Next Monday is when the school will be informed. So don’t go talking to people about it just yet. Admin wants the weekend to get things finalized.”

“You got it” the girls replied.

“Thanks guys, see you Monday!” 

Redwood left and the girls looked at each other in disbelief.

“Is this really happening?” inquired Valaire. 

“It is. But to be sure…”

Emma pinched Valaire right on her thigh. She let out a yelp.

“OkayOkay! I’m not dreaming” said Valaire laughingly. 

The pair sat down. Emma noticed how Valaire’s smile transform into something more serious. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked

“Where do we get tanks?”

“There is no dealership we can go to?”

“They are. Tanks there are top of the line. Spotless. Triple-checked for mechanical problems and comes fueled and fully loaded. In other words, hopelessly expensive.” 

“Oh.” said Emma in a despondent tone. 

Valarie scratched her chin.

“Hell, have you ever seen a tank in this town?”

Emma shook her head. 

“Well. I guess we gotta turn over every stone in this town. “ Valarie said.

“When we organize the Tankery team, we’ll have loads of help!” said Emma cheerfully. 

The two smiled. A bell then pierced the air. Lunch has ended. They exchanged a hug and went to their classes. The remainder of the school day, Valarie managed to power through. As soon as the dismissal bell sounded, she bolted out her class and was in a near sprint toward the front of the school. She approached the bike racks and knelt in front of a bike. She began fiddling with the lock. 

“Watcha doing.” spoke a familiar voice. 

“Trying to get my bike unlocked.”

Emma watched inquisitively.

“Does that mean you’re not going on the bus?”

“No, sorry. If I leave my back over the weekend, it’ll get taken away.” 

“Alright I’ll text ya later” 

Emma left and got in line to board her bus. In the time in took for the line to progress and speed away, Valaire still was trying to unlock her bike. Eventually, she remembered the combination and the lock was disengaged. Now free, she mounted her bike and rode off. Dodging students and over obstacles, she peddled hard for home, biking on roads and passing homes she had done hundreds of times before. The ride home was set to be another routine ride. Another memory that would fade away and be entirely forgotten. 

It was routine until it wasn’t. 

She heard the engine again from earlier. She stopped and listened. It didn’t sound too far. Just around the corner, it seemed. Valaire resumed and made the turn. The noise was getting louder. She peddled faster. Up ahead was an empty plot of land. That must be where it is. Her excitement grew and biked even faster. When she reached the plot, she turned her head toward the origin of the sound. Her eyes latched onto it and widened. Indeed, was her earlier hunch was correct.

It was a tank. 

And it was one hell of a tank. Valarie immediately identified it as an IS-3, soviet heavy tank. She was astounded to see such a vehicle here, even more to see it working.

Valarie then found herself on the ground, her face in pain. While gazing at the tank, she did not stop biking. Without watching where she was going, she collided head first into a road sign. The impact made the people around the IS-3 look her way. One of them walked towards her. 

“Oh man, are you okay?” asked a male voice. He gave Valarie an ice pack.

“Thank you”

She placed it on the part of her face that hurt. The pain was throbbing and the ice provided comforting relief. She pressed it firmly against her face for a minute or so. She then stood up. The person who helped here was taller than she was, at six foot event, the guy was of Hispanic descent though was of lighter complexion. 

“What’s your name?” asked Valarie.

“I’m Ray. I go to the same school as you.

Valarie vaguely remembered seeing Ray walking about on campus. The school wasn’t the biggest so it wasn’t impossible to remember faces. 

“What grade are you in?”

“I’m a junior” answered Ray. 

“Okay Ray the Junior. Riddle me this. Where the hell did you get a working IS-3?”

Ray sported a proud smile. He then pointed to a grove of trees.

“Hiding in those trees is a garage. The owner said that it was there when he moved in about a decade ago and he just doesn’t want to bother with it, so he let my friends and I tinker with it. “

Valarie couldn’t believe her luck

“As it turns out…” Ray continued.

“...despite how it looked, it was not totally beyond repair. We spend the summer doing repairs and the last few weeks we enjoyed the fruits of our labor by taking the thing out in joy rides.”

“Can I have a closer look?” asked Valarie. 

“Of course, yeah!”

Ray led Valarie to the tank and when they were before the machine, Valarie couldn’t help but nerd out. An actual, honest-to-god, Soviet IS-3 was right there in front of her. The iconic shade of green painted on Soviet tanks looked far better in person than in pictures. She placed her hands on the steel. It was pleasantly warm. She felt other aspects of the vehicle, from the welds to the tank’s notable pike. It’s sheer size made Valarie tiny, even Ray six foot tall stature was made diminutive when next to the IS-3. 

“Is everything working?” she finally asked. 

“Well, it can move, obviously. The turret rotates and the cannon responds to inputs.” 

“Ever fired it?”

Ray was taken aback.

“Um...no? Sounds like a great way to get the cops on us. Besides, we don’t have any rounds. 

“So it’s been disarmed”

“Well, not necessarily. The machine guns have been removed, only their mounts remain. The cannon breech was absolutely coated with dirt and dust but a good clean made it look good as new. Ammo aside, this tank is functional.”

Valarie continued to admire the tank. 

_ “These boys sure did a good job" _she thought. 

“Any of you have roles?”

Ray had an embarrassed expression. He placed his hands inside his pockets.

“Well...ahem...I’m the commander. Ryan over there is the gunner. Caser loads shell and Jeremy hauls us around.” 

Valarie smiled. It was cute, she thought, that these boys have assigned roles for each other. As she thought about it, an idea sparked. 

“So…” Valarie began, addressing everyone.

“...what do you guys think about Tankery?”

The boys expressed voices of approval. They too had some enthusiasm about the sport. 

“We’re all fans” chimed in Ray. 

“Though it seems that we can only be fans. There’s no tankery teams anywhere close here” he concluded. 

“That’s where you’re wrong” she said dramatically. 

The boys piped up. Valarie gestured everyone closer. 

“Okay, in a few months the national tankery tournament will start. California is giving schools money to get their teams in order. Our school got some money for a team. 

Ray and the others were visibly joyful. 

“Monday is when the school will make an official announcement. I hope you guys will join. 

“Hell yeah we will! We can’t pass this up!” exclaimed Ryan

Jeremy, however, had a concern.

“Just a question.” he asked.

Valarie looked at Jeremy.

“Tankery is a sport that is marketed to girls, right?”

She nodded.

“I’m worried about how we will be received. ‘Cause we all know that the people who will join the school’s team will be girls.”

Valarie never thought of this. Sure, whenever she has read or watched promotional material for Tankery, it was exclusively women who were shown. It would always mention how women who participate in the sport will be empowered and be better individuals as a result. Male tankery crews? Surely they must exist. She just hasn’t seen them. 

“Well…” she began

“Hopefully there won’t be any issues. Besides, you have a tank. That oughta convince people.”

_ “It better” _Valarie said internally. 

She glanced at the sun. It was already moving downward and on its way to the horizon. 

“Anywho, it’s time for me to head home. See you guys Monday!”

Valarie got on her bike and peddled away. The boys waved goodbye as she looked back. It was an effort to keep steady while holding the ice pack Ray has given here and though there were a few close calls, she has made it home. In the drive-way, she spotted her mom’s car. She’s home. Valarie stowed her bike in front of the home and walked toward the rear-view mirror of the care. She checked on her face. There was a noticeable bruise. The pain was dissipating at least. With nothing else that she could do, she entered her home.

Once she entered, she heard the murmur of the television. Her mom was on the couch, dozing off, still in her welder’s smock. The sound of her daughter shutting the door awoke her. 

“Hey honey.” she said groggily.

“How was- What happened to your face?!” 

Her mother stood up instantly and quickly began to look at Valarie’s face. 

“Um, I fell off my bike mom. It’s not a huge deal”. 

Her mother continued to scrutinize the injury, gently touching her face with her hands. 

“Just a bruise. A meal and some rest will patch you up. Dinner’ll be ready in half an hour.”

Just before she walked away, Valarie’s mother noticed the ice pack.

“Where’d ya get that from?” she questioned. 

“Oh, a friend from school saw me fall and he gave me it”. 

“Awfully nice of him. Of course, that means we’ll have to give that boy a gift of thanks”

“Yes mom”

Valarie went to her room as her mom got dinner ready. She put her stuff on the floor and collapsed onto her bed. 

_ “What a day” _she said quietly

_ “And to think...it’s not even over yet”. _

She checked the time. 

_ 3:17 P.M _

She had some time before the match. She whipped out her phone and texted Emma. There was some news to share. 

“Found a tank already w/crew lol” she typed. 

A minuted later her phone buzzed. A response. 

“Seriously? Already? Wow!” Emma texted back. 

“Redwood will be happy.” she continued. 

“Yup. Off to a great start. Chat w/you when match starts.” 

Valarie put away her phone and rested in her bed. The Tankery match alone made today special but now, she has gone from a fan to a participant. For the first time in her life, she was looking forward to Monday. Today was indeed a good day for firsts.

“Val! Dinner!” her mom called. 

Dinner was simple. Basic pasta with the standard tomato sauce. It was filling nonetheless. As they ate , they chatted about their day. 

“So, there is something new with school”

“Do share.” her mom said

“The school is starting a tankery team and I signed up.”

Valarie’s mother got excited. 

“That’s great! Getting into a sport will look good on college applications. Not to mention for scholarships! Tankery is a helluva commitment and involves immense dedication. Are you ready to give it your all?”

“Yes” Valarie responded, mouth full of pasta. 

Her mother had a proud smile.

“I know you’ll do great. At the very least, you’ll have fun.”

Mother and daughter finished their meal and hung out in the living room, watching T.V. As the sky grew darker, Valarie’s mother would drift asleep. Valarie too felt her exhaustion thought fought it. She couldn’t let herself sleep, she’d risk missing the match and would hate herself for that. After two hours of watching T.V, the pair retired to their respective rooms. 

_ 7:30 P.M _

In her room, Valarie made herself comfortable. Off with her school clothes, she put on a simple t-shirt and gray sweatpants. She situated her laptop on one of her pillows next to her. She turned off the lights and laid in bed on her side. Only the glow of her computer’s screen was visible in her dark room. She navigated online to the site that would steam the match. The stream was entirely in Japanese but she was already used to this. Though not understanding much, she knew that it was a pre-game commentary. 

_ 7:50 P.M _

Valarie saw on stream both groups of tanks belong to Ooarai and Kuromorimine e in their starting positions. She spotted the Panzer IV, Miho Nishizumi’s vehicle. She saw it before but it never stopped being breathtaking. Her phone vibrated. It was Emma.

“Don’t know what’s going on, but it's so cool!” she said. 

Valarie grinned. Emma can be real cute at times. As soon as 8 P.M rolled around, the match began. All the vehicles on screen drove on. The contrast between the teams couldn’t be more clear. Ooarai’s tanks were a mishmash of armored vehicles from various nations. Kori Mori Mine’s vehicles were exclusively German and all camouflaged in identical patterns. Judging solely by appearance, one would be led to believe that Kori Mori Mine was the more ‘professional’ team. Though, if one were to consider the capabilities of each time, they would see that Ooarai actually has the edge. The diversity of their roster makes them flexible and more adaptable to a changing situation. Kori Mori Mine has fielded heavier tanks and tank destroyers for they had expected to face off against Pravda. Though, Ooarai’s stunning upsets has put them at a disadvantage. Regardless of the circumstances, though, the match was as tense as Valarie hoped it would be. 

When the Maus made its appearance, Valarie had to stop herself from screaming by stuffing a pillow into her face. 

“You seeing this?” she texted Emma

“Unreal...so huge.” was her reply. 

The Maus has eliminated two of Ooarai’s vehicles. The girls watched as Ooarai fired round after round into the behemoth and saw it shrug off each hit. They thought this was it, where the upsets would end. But the surprises kept coming. Ooarai have maneuvered their tanks into a more open area. The Maus drove out of the alley. At one end of the street was Ooarai. The steel giant turned to face them. The group of tanks moved forward, with the Hetzer leading them. The small tank destroyer accelerated faster, heading straight toward the Maus. With a loud smash, it hit the front of the tank. Because of its slope, the Hetzer rose the front of the heavy tank into the air. On the Maus’ right, two tanks appeared and shot their cannons in tandem with their machine guns. It got the attention they wanted and the Maus rotated its turret toward them. It fired but the more nimble vehicles avoided being knocked out. 

A Type-89 that was following the Hetzer has used the tank destroyer as a ramp and drove onto the Maus and wedged itself next to the turret. Immobilized, the Maus was vulnerable. Miho’s Panzer IV has driven along an embankment and positioned her tank above the Maus. She planted a shell in the rear of the vehicle, disabling the steel monster. David has beaten Goliath. 

Valarie was utterly amazed over what she has witnessed. Her phone was going insane as Emma spammed ‘woah’ to her. Now past 11:30, the girls didn’t have a shred of exhaustion. They feverishly watched as their minds raced to how the match could end. They wouldn’t expect that real exhilarating part was yet to come. 

Midnight was fast approaching and the match has reached a critical point. In an abandoned apartment complex, stood two tanks. At one corner was Miho Nishizumi’s Panzer IV. At the other, was a Tiger H1 commanded by her sister, Maho Nishizumi. Two different styles of Tankery were about to be put to the ultimate test. The two commanders dueled each other. Their vehicles moved with precision and speed. Each shot only barely missed the other. Strategic breaking has saved Miho’s tank from being eliminated. But time was not a luxury. The rest of Kuromorimine was breaking through to assist their commander. Ooarai’s Porsche Tiger was holding them, but only barely. It was inevitable that they’ll get through and if they do, Ooarai’s defeat would be certain. 

Miho would need to make a move and do it fast. The tanks returned to the square where they started this fight earlier. The Panzer IV raced toward the Tiger and at the last possible moment dodged a shot. Then, it accelerated and drifted. As it did, sparks emanated from the tracks and the strain proved to be too much, they snapped but the momentum continued to propel the tank. It swung around the rear of the Tiger, its turret rotating to fire. 

The moment the Panzer IV was behind the Tiger, the 88mm cannon was pointed at their direction. Simultaneously, both tanks fired and a plume of smoke covered the vehicles. 

Valarie could only watch, mouth agape. 

After what seemed like forever, the smoke cleared. Kuromorimine’s tanks were just around the corner. As the two tanks became visible, it was apparent that both were damaged. The Panzer IV had one of its side-skirts totally torn off. The Tiger’s rear compartment was destroyed. The white flag was flying on the Tiger’s turret. Kuromorimine ’s flag tank has been eliminated. 

Ooarai’s Girls Academy has won Japan’s Tankery tournament. 

Throughout this climatic spectacle, Valarie has scarcely breathed. Never, in all of the Tankery matches she has watched, have a match been this intense. Her expectations were not only met, but where smashed beyond recognition. Valarie looked at her phone and saw that Emma too, was sharing her emotions. 

“No movie can top this.” Emma typed. 

“Agreed. And soon we’ll be doing that too.” 

It was 1 A.M now, Saturday has already begun. The girls, now thoroughly entertained, bid each other good night. Yet, as Emma slept, Valarie stayed up for a few more minutes. She turned on her lamp on her nightstand and opened the drawer. Inside was a collection of notebooks. She took the one from the top. The pages of the notebook were filled with charts and maps of the local area. She used this notebook to pretend that she was a Tankery commander, brainstorming strategy. Each page was filled with exquisite detail. As she combed through dozens of pages of make-believe, she made it to a blank page. She grabbed a pencil and wrote on the first line. 

_ Mojave Rose High School Tankery Team _

She didn’t have to pretend anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mojave Rose Tankery team is beginning to shape up. But to be recognized by the American Tankery Association as an official team, they need to have an instructor.
> 
> And some tanks, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! I hope you enjoy reading as I have enjoyed writing. Like before, I look forward to your feedback.

Once her room was thoroughly blanketed with the sun’s rays, Valarie awoke. Her phone reported that the time was 8:17 A.M. Seven of sleep on a weekend was pretty good for her standards. While she would typically remain in bed on her phone while waiting for breakfast, she already out of bed. She grabbed some towels and had a warm shower. Once out of the shower and into some clothes, she felt refreshed. Exactly the mood she needed to be in for what she planned. Back in her room, Valarie sat at her desk. She was doing her homework. Normally a task she’d procrastinate on, now, it had to be taken care off. Once that was addressed, she now can devote all of her time and energy toward the Tankery team. Officially, it was just herself and Emma. Ray and the guys plan on singing up on Monday. Valarie reclined in her seat.

_ “Who else do I know could I convince joining?”  _ she pondered.

For some people that she knew, she had no doubt that they’d join up. For others, she was iffy about. They were the type of people who don’t enjoy going out of their comfort zone and being in a tank, shooting and being shot at, is quite a departure. Of course, these people could surprise her. Though, even if 100 students joined up, it would mean nothing if they had no tanks. The IS-3 was a great start but a team isn’t one tank. They would have to find more soon so people don’t lose interest. But where?

“Breakfast is ready!” yelled her mom. 

In the kitchen, a breakfast of bacon and eggs were prepared. A simple meal but classic. As they ate, Valarie continued to think and the more she did so, the more concerned she grew. Her mother noticed.

“What’s wrong Val?” she asked

“I don’t know where to find tanks for the team. We just have one so far.”

Her mother finished her breakfast.

“Well, the only tanks I’ve seen are in museums and I doubt those people are gonna let you take ‘em”

She rose and grabbed her plate and Valarie’s, putting them in the sink.

“You’ve been in this town all your life, but do you really think you’ve been everywhere?”

Valarie absorbed the words her mom said. They rang true. She hasn’t been in every acre in town. She mostly stays in the same area. It gave her some confidence. If enough people join the Tankery team, they can comb through this town and find something. The weekend was spent preparing for Monday. She composed a list of things to do get the Tankery team up and running. Late Sunday evening, while Valarie was finalizing what she wrote, her mother called her. She went and was presented with a plastic bag.

“What’s this?” 

“A gift for the boy who helped you.” her mother replied. 

Inside the bag was a thank-you card and an assortment of candy.

“All that candy better get to him unscathed” her mother said sternly 

“It will. It will”

“Alright honey, good night and good luck tomorrow. I know you’ll do great.”

As her mother left for bed, Valarie put aside the gift bag. She took one last glance at her notes, then turned the light off. She slept soundly that night.

_ Monday _

School was as busy as usual. As Valarie walked on campus, she scanned the crowd. They were in their bubbles, spending the few minutes they have socializing before class beings. She walked toward a group of benches and sat done. Among all the chatting students was the howling of the winds. It was an atmosphere that, oddly, Valarie enjoyed. She felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Ray.

“Oh hey.” she greeted.

“Hi, I'm glad I found ya.” Ray said

He then gave her a slip of paper. Valarie looked at what was written and saw a string of numbers. It was Ray’s phone number.

“Here’s my number.” he continued.

“Since we are going to be a team, we might as well share numbers. Start a group chat or something.”

Valarie pocketed the paper. 

“Thanks. That’s a good idea...hey...since we’re exchanging stuff...here.”

She gave Ray the gift bag. He opened it and made a little sound when he saw all the candy. 

“Oooh! Is this for me?” he questioned

“Yup. Thanks for helping me when I ate that road sign.”

“Anytime” Ray replied, already tearing off the wrapper of a piece of chocolate. 

“Ya know…” he said, mouthful of chocolate.

“Something tells me that won’t be the first time I come to your rescue.”

They smirked at each other. 

“We’ll see. Bye.”

Valarie made her way to her first class of the day. She took her unassigned assigned seat and eagerly awaited the morning announcements, something that she would otherwise tune out. The people in their desks around her were either on their phones or staring into space. Just a typical Monday morning. As the last of the students trickled in, the teacher began his lesson. After a few minutes elapsed, the PA system switched on.

“Good Morning Dust Devils! It is Monday, October 22nd, 2012. Here are you morning announcements!”

Redwood was the person who gave the announcements and did so with great enthusiasm. At times, Valarie gets second-hand embarrassment over the things he announced. Because, really, no one is  _ that _ excited over a recycling drive. As Redwood raddled on, Valarie awaited eagerly for one announcement in particular. Then she heard this.

“Dust Devils, we have a unique opportunity for y’all today. The school is starting its own Tankery team in preparation for the National Tankery Tournament and we need you! Head to Room 34 at the West Quad if interested after school!”

Immediately upon the conclusion of the announcements, Valarie gauged the reactions in the room. There were some hushed conversations but not the enthusiasm that she hoped for. Perhaps she let her fantasies get the better of her. She turned to the person to the person to her right, Heather, and tapped her shoulder.

“So, what do you think about that? Tankery huh?” she asked

Heather pondered for a moment.

“Pretty cool. I’m gonna swing by to see what’s up.” she replied softly. 

Heather and Valarie really only talk to each other when in class with the occasional wave when walking past each other. She was incredibly shy and reserved and it took Valarie time and effort to get her out of her shell. When she did, the conversations they had were bizarre. Valarie loved it and Heather, not very expressive, was internally joyful to talk to someone about about her peculiar interests. They both took notes as the lesson resumed. All she can do now is wait.

At the end of the school day, Valarie and Emma walked together to Room 34 in the West Quad. This place was relatively isolated compared to the rest of the campus. In these portable buildings, they don’t hold classes but rather for clubs to congregate. While the place gave Valarie some spooky vibes, it will be the place where the Tankery team will meet. When the pair entered the room, Redwood was the sole person in the room.

“Hey girls.” he greeted.

“Hello...has anyone come by yet?” asked Emma

“No, but I just got here so let’s sit tight.”

Not even a minute late and two more people arrived. It was Ray and Ryan.

“Hey boys, you here for Tankery?” questioned Redwood

“Yes sir” replied Ray

“Great, take these registration forms please.”

The two boys grab the papers and sat next to the girls. They greeted each other. Valarie then spoke to Ray

“Where are the others?”

“Oh, they’re on their way. They just gotta bring something first”. He winked as he finished his sentence. 

More people arrived and they were all girls. This made Ray and Ryan a bit anxious though the girls did not make any comments toward them. Once the room was getting filled up, Redwood began speaking.

“Hello everyone, welcome to the Mojave Rose High School Tankery team. I am quite pleased at the turnout. Now, before I forget, I’m going to pass the registration forms. Per American Tankery Association rules, any one under 18 needs parent permission so don’t forget that.”

As the forms were being passed around there was the approaching hum of an engine. Everyone in the room listened intently. 

“Excuse me…” said Redwood.

“I’ll check this out. Valarie, take care of the rest of the forms.”

Redwood passed the pile of papers to Valarie and she resumed passing them out. He left the room. Ray and Ryan were sitting and looking through the forms they were already given. They then heard the noise of hurried footsteps

“What are  _ you _ two doing here?” said an irritated voice. 

“Wha-” began Ray but was interrupted. 

“You do know that Tankery a girl’s sport, right?” 

The two boys became very flustered. With all the eyes in the room upon them, they were visibly uncomfortable. Valarie intervened.

“Hey! I told them about this. Why can’t they join?”

“You ever seen the ads for Tankery?” said the girl

“All women. These guys are only here to pick-up dates.”

The tension in the room was building and Valarie feared it erupting. If this wasn’t resolved quickly, then the team would fall apart far before its first practice.

“We are not going anywhere.” Ray said defiantly.

“Also, two more guys are coming too, so we’re here to stay.” 

“Oh  _ yeah _ ?” the girl responded sternly

“If you don’t leave, I’ll-”

“Title IX” spoke a voice. 

The bickering students turned their attention to the voice. It was Heather, tucked in one of the corners of the room. 

“What are you talking about?” questioned the annoyed girl. 

Heather looked directly at her.

“Title IX of the Educational Amendments of 1972 forbids discrimination on the basis of sex in sports. Mandating an all-female Tankery team would be illegal.”

Now it was the irritated girl’s turn to be flustered. 

“B-but...all that marketing-”

“It’s just that. Marketing.”

The girl just sat down. She was still annoyed at the thought that boys would be participating but not enough to quit. She’ll tolerate them. For now. 

The door flung open and Redwood waltzed in with clear excitement. 

“Hey guys! Come outside and check this out!”

Intrigued, everyone in the room stood up and followed Redwood around the corner. As they did, there was surprised gasps and shouts. Parked on the patch of dirt next to one of the buildings was the IS-3. Jeremy and Cesar were late but arrived in spectacular fashion. 

“Everyone, allow me to introduce the first tank in our roster.”

The entire group surrounded the tank. They were talking, touching, and taking pictures with the machine. Even the annoyed girl from earlier showed a slight smile. While everyone was admiring the tank as if it were an art piece, Redwood pulled Valarie aside. 

“As part of the requirements of the Association, this team will need an instructor. If we can find one, that would then fulfill all of the requirements and we’d be golden. My plate is full right now, so I’m entrusting you to find one.”

“Um...okay.” Valarie responded in an uneasy tone.

Redwood returned to the group and continued work with getting people registered. Valarie went to Emma, she noticed the look of Valarie’s face. 

“What’s wrong?” she inquired.

“We gotta find a Tankery instructor, or at least, someone with previous Tankery experience.”

“Really? Where the hell do we find someone like that?”

“I know one” said Heather, spooking both girls. She was just standing outside the peripheral vision of both girls. Somehow she knew exactly where to stand to not be noticed. 

“You...know a Tankery instructor?” Valarie probed.

“Instructor? I don’t know. But I do know that she was in Tankery when she was younger.” Heather replied. 

“I can take you to her.”

Valarie and Emma looked at each other briefly then nodded. They followed Heather out of the campus and into the parking lot. From her pocket, she withdrew some keys and pressed on button. A nearby car lit up and was unlocked. 

“Woah...you can drive?” Emma asked, amazed.   
“Yep. Got my license back in March.”

The trio drove off. While driving, Valarie asked Heather about the person they were going to meet.

“So, how do you know this person?

“She’s a neighbor.”

“When did she do Tankery?”

“Oh, from the late 80s to the early 90s. 

Valarie never anticipated that the person was old and last did Tankery over 20 years ago. What does someone who hasn’t been in the game have to teach? Valarie decided not to judge quite yet. 

They arrived at the apartment complex where Heather lived in. They all entered and ascended a few flights of stairs. When they reached the right floor, Heather stopped. 

“She’s a bit of a recluse so if she acts weird...now you know.”

“I’ve met my fair share of weirdos.” said Valarie

“As long as she isn’t a total lunatic we’ll be alright. By the way, what’s her name?

“Gabrielle Buchanan.”

They walked to the door. As they stood in front of it, Heather hesitated for a moment then knocked on the door. Within, the girls heard the sound of a raspy cough and stumbling footsteps. One by one, the locks were disengaged and the door was opened slightly, just enough for a head to poke out.

“Who do you kids want?” Buchanan asked”

Just from seeing her face, Valarie and Emma learned a lot about Buchanan. Her messy blonde hair and tired eyes spoke volumes. A tan this late in the air clearly indicated that this person spent a majority of their time outside. Valarie introduced the trio. 

“Hi, we’re students from Mojave Rose. The high school is starting a Tankery club and we’d love if you-”.

The moment the word ‘Tankery’ was uttered went from being stoic to expressing a combination of anger and panic. 

“No!” she yelled, startling the three students. 

“I’m not going near a tank. I want nothing to do with this.”

The door was slammed in their faces. They remained there for a few moments before the shock wore off. 

“What the hell is her problem?!” Emma said, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know...I’ve never seen her like that.” Heather replied.

Valarie could only sign.

“I’ll drive you guys home.”

They left. Dejected. 

Heather dropped of Valarie at her home. The two exchanged goodbyes and the car sped away. Valarie’s evening was spent doing her routine tasks but what she had seen earlier was on her mind. Her task at hand was to find an instructor but she was captivated by Buchanan’s outburst. She wanted to get to the bottom of this. She’d need to talk to a person who has been in this time their whole life. She knew the perfect person.

_ Tuesday _

In school the next day, during her lunch period, Valarie headed straight to Redwood’s office. Inside the cold administration building, Redwood was in his office, typing away. She knocked on the open door.

“Hey Valarie, How’s it going?” he greeted.

“Hi Mr.Redwood. Can we talk?

“Always. Have a seat Valarie. What’s on your mind?   


Valarie took her seat and exhaled.

“So, this is about the instructor you told me to find.”

Redwood stopped typing and reclined in his chair.

“Oh, so you found one?”

“Well, kind of...its complicated.”

Redwood had an interesting look on his face.

“...Complicated?” he asked. 

“Does the name Gabrielle Buchanan ring any bells?”

Redwood seemed to freeze and sank into his chair.

“You went to her, huh?” he asked solemnly.

“Yeah, what’s up with here? Why did she freak out when I mentioned the word ‘Tankery’?”

“Trauma” Redwood replied simply.    
“Wha-what happened?” Valarie inquired. 

Redwood shifted in his seat.

“Get comfortable Val, I got one helluva story to tell.

Valarie paid full attention.

“Once upon a time, the Mojave was the place in California for Tankery and Barstow was at the epicenter.”

_ Mojave Desert _

_ July 4th 1990 _

_ Independence Day Tankery Friendlies  _

Though today was just a friendly match, Gabrielle Buchanan remained as competitive as ever. She treated it like an official match and intended to win. The sun was high in the sky and the heat was unmerciful. Gabrielle was the commander of an M4A3E8, the ever popular  _ Easy Eight _ . While the outside was being baked by the outside sun, there was some relief. The cool breeze helped but real comfort was within the Sherman. While some would assume that a metal vehicle would have its innards be a furnace for the occupants, the crew of the Sherman installed a rudimentary air conditioning system. While not the most sophisticated system in the world, compared to the outside, the crew was in heaven

It did the job decent enough.

The Sherman traversed the harsh Mojave, its desert camouflage perfectly hiding it against the sandy environment. From her viewports, Gabrielle could only see the endless hills,with dry vegetation dotted throughout the landscape. She checked her map and compass frequently to verify they were on the right track. It has been over an hour since she split from the main team, performing recon. The radio was constantly belching out statuses and updates from other tanks. Gabrielle tuned them out as she concentrated on the task at hand. 

“Stop the tank” she ordered.

Erica, the driver, dutifully complied. The vehicle halted right next to a large rocky hill. This will provide some measure of concealment. The turret was rotated toward an open area. This was an idea spot to do some reconnaissance, and maybe do an ambush.

“Kendra, load an AP round.”

The loade reached down and inserted the 76mm armor-piercing shell into the breech. It was heavy but Kendra has loaded the cannon hundreds of times. She did the task effortlessly.

“Alright. We’re waiting now. Keep a sharp eye.”

All of the crew remained vigilant though it was Gabrielle who had the view ports. If anything were to come into view, she’d see it first. That, and she also had a pair of binoculars. The crew was silent, with the only words in hearing range coming from the radio. 

“Hill, any visuals?” a voice said

“Nothing. Moving to next position.” replied another. 

“All tanks be advised…”

That was the team commander. Gabrielle and her crew focused on what she says.

“Flores has spotted a portion of the enemy team. Grid reference, 11SNU7142659619.”

Seems like the other team has also separated. 

Gabrielle looked at her map. Where those enemy tanks are way on the other side of the hill they were in. They might be driving toward her position where she can then ambu-

Gabrielle froze when from one of her view ports she spotted vehicle far in the distance. It’s silhouette was small. 

_ Is it going away from us or coming toward us?  _ She pondered.

Then a flash.

“Reverse! Reve-”

The Sherman was rocked by the impact. So much so that the crew was helplessly smashed against the inner wars of the vehicle. Gabrielle suffered the worst of it and was knocked unconscious. When she came to she was heavily disoriented. Her vision was being obscured and he eyes stung and were watery. There was something in the air but she was too out of it to figure out what it was. By her feet, there was a warm sensation.

Very warm.

Burning. 

She touched her face and saw that her hand was smudged with her own blood. He could hear frantic words on the radio but couldn't discern what they were saying. The heat that she was feeling, she could now hear. Below her, it was roaring.

The tank was on fire. 

Gabrielle tried to open the hatch above her but the metal burned her hands and she yelped in pain. The smoke grew, was more blackened, and was ever more intoxicating. Her coughs were getting more horse by the moment and each time she did, hurt her. What consciousness she regained was already slipping away due to the overpowering smoke. Her vision flicked in and out. 

A sudden burst of sunlight appeared right above her. She then felt someone grab her by the collar of her uniform and pull her through the opening. Outside, she was pulled from the tank and onto the ground. Gabrielle was dragged away a safe distance from the Sherman. She was coughing incessantly while breathing in every ounce of fresh air. Beside her was the crew, visibly shaken and covered when burns and soot. Kendra poured water over Gabrielle’s face. 

“Don’t get up Gabby, save your strength.” she said weakly.

“We gotta wait for the ambulance.”

“What...happened?” Gabrielle asked after catching her breath.

“When we got hit, it set off a fire. I...don't know how” responded Erica despondently.

The black smoke that was bellowing out of every opening of the tank was suddenly replaced by a rush of flame. Hatches that were closed were blown open. The ammunition inside has cooked off, producing a horrifying sound. The girls could only watch as their tank burned. Sirens were heard faintly in the distance, steadily getting louder and louder. 

“Later, in an investigation, it was found that the protective carbon lining where the shell hit was very deteriorated. The round punched through and ignited a fuel tank. “ Redwood recalled.

Valarie hasn’t moved in inch during the entire story.

“They were lucky. Bailing out of a tank isn’t really something that is taught in Tankery, not to mention one that is one fire. Those things...just weren’t expected.”

“So, that’s why Buchanan freaked out. She was nearly burned alive.” said Valarie.

“What happened after that?”

“Tankery in the Mojave was transformed. Essentially overnight, mood toward the sport soured. No one wanted anything to do with it. By 1991, all the local teams were defunct. For Buchanan and her crew, the American Tankery Association gave them hefty settlements for medical costs and them some. I don’t know the exact cost but I do know that Gabrielle hasn’t worked a job since then. The other crew members used the money to move out of town. Haven’t heard of them since.”

Redwood noted the look of concern on Valarie’s face. He acted quickly. 

“But hey, since then the sport has never been more safer. The carbon lining has been improved to a point where failure is a fantasy. As long as they are maintained, of course.”

Valarie was comforted.

“The sport had its ups and downs but compared to other sports, it’s safety record is pretty rock solid. Anyway, Ms.Buchanan as an instructor is a no-go. It’s still up to you to find an instructor. 

“Fine. Thanks Mr. Redwood.”

“No problem, see you at the meeting later!”

_ Later that day _

At the apartment complex, a middle-aged woman walks up the staircase. Her legs arched each step for she spent was hiking out in the desert. It was one of the things she does to occupy her time. Once she reached her floor she walked toward her door, her head tilted toward the ground. She has a lot on her mind. When she entered her apartment, she didn’t bother to turn on the lights, and sat on the couch. She preferred the darkness. It meant that she didn’t have to see herself in the mirror. She dropped her hiking equipment on the floor. Her clothes were covered with the desert dust and drenched with sweat. As Gabrielle sat, in the dark and her filth, she thought about yesterday. When those kids came and asked her to be an instructor. She recalled her freaking out and slamming the door. The sleep that night wasn’t good, though it rarely was.

Was this going to be life for the rest of her days? The trauma has already consumed so much of it. She wants to heal but never knew how. What happened yesterday could be a solution, a way to overcome and start a new chapter. She sat for over an hour nearly motionless, thinking. If there was a chance to heal, she must take it, no matter the chances of it actually working.

She stood up and left her apartment. Taking an immediate left, she headed straight for the door down the hall. She walked with purpose to a specific door. She knocked. When it opened, a woman of similar age answered. Though appearance wise, the contrast couldn’t be more stark. 

“Um, hello. How can I help you?” asked the woman, slightly concerned.

“I’m here to speak with Heather, is she her?” replied Gabrielle. 

The woman hesitated briefly before responding.

“Yes...one moment.” 

The women departed and Gabrielle could hear her calling her daughter. Heather appeared at the door moments later. 

“Hello Miss Buchanan. I’m sorry for yesterday, we-”

“Heather, don’t be sorry.” Gabrielle interrupted.

“I’ve been thinking about what you kids offered.”

Heather stood with bated breath

“Tell your friends I’ve made my mind up. I’ll be your instructor.

Sporting a smile, Heather hugged Gabrielle, somehow managing to ignore her odor. 

“Thank you so much! This means the world to us!” she exclaimed. 

“Come to the high school tomorrow for our meeting.”

“Oh, I’ll be there.” Gabrielle responded. 

The two shared goodbyes. Heather, all bubbly, darted toward her phone and shared the good news. Gabrielle returned home and showered. In the water, she felt more than the grime getting washed away. When she left the shower, she felt that a heavy load was taken off her shoulder. That night, she had no trouble falling asleep. For the first time in years, she slept well. 

The following school day, Valarie, Emma, and Heather sat together during lunch, excitedly chatting with one another.

“So, what you’re saying is that she just went up to you and ‘Yeah I’ll do it’?” asked Valarie, a bit stunned

Heather shrugged

“Pretty much” she replied. 

“Well, with an instructor that makes the team official.” Emma said proudly.    


“She’ll be here at the meeting after school” remarked Heather.

Mojave Rose High School officially had a Tankery team, another step toward their first match.

As soon as the dismissal bell range, Valarie and Emma made their way to Room 34 and already was there a group of students within. Redwood too was there, collecting signed forms.

“Hey girls. Got your forms?” he said upon seeing them.

They turned in their papers and took their seats. Heather then entered the room. She talked with Redwood briefly who put on a happy face. Once they were done chatting, Heather sat with Valarie and Emma.

“She’s here. Miss Buchanan is walking here right now.”

“Great! Now we can really make some progress.” exclaimed Valarie

Ray and the boys arrived minutes later and they sat down next to the trio.

“So…” he started.

“...rumor says we have an instructor.”

“Yep” responded Emma.

“She’ll be here any minute now.”

Everyone in the room chatted away as Redwood worked on collecting forms. They paid little attention to the students that trickled in but when the door flung open once more and a forty year-old woman walked in, it silenced the room. For most of them, they didn’t know why she was here. Redwood stopped what he was doing.

“Heeey Martin. Long time no see” she said playfully.

“Ga..Gabrielle.” Redwood stammered. 

“You’re going to be the instructor?”

She nodded. Redwood got closer and spoke in a hushed tone.

“No one forced ya to do this, right?” he asked

“Nah, I’m here on my own volition. I’m ready to teach these kids. 

Redwood breathed a sigh of relief. 

“It’s good your here..and to see you again...and uh..well...you’re at the helm now.”

“Thanks...by the way, how many students will be participating?”

Redwood checked his papers.

“32” he answered.

Gabrielle stretched and clapped her hands

“Alright” she said, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“If you’re here, you are interested in Tankery enough to participate. You’re here because you want to do new things and perhaps feel empowered and be a better person as a result.”

She then saw Ray and the boys. She put on a grin.

“...and maybe you’re here to break some stereotypes. Well, you’re at the right place but such things don’t come easy. For those who want to succeed, you will get dirty, you will get sweaty, and you will be Tankers. Are you all ready for it?”

The room delivered a resounding ‘yes’ which brought joy for both Gabrielle and Redwood.

“Now, let me introduce myself. My name is Gabrielle Buchanan and I will be your Tankery instructor. Back in the ancient year of 1990, I commanded a Sherman M4A3E8  _ Easy Eight.  _ If you don’t know what that is, don’t worry, you will soon. During a match, my vehicle was hit by a round and due to a safety failure, was set on fire. I only barely avoided being burnt to a crisp.

Dead silence in the room. Danger in Tankery was something that most the room didn’t think about. Which was rather shocking as the sport was tank combat just toned down slightly. 

“Not only will you be taught how to operate an armored vehicle…” she continued.

“You will also be drilled in various safety techniques so that no matter what emergency happens, you will know the exact things to do. 

She reviewed the few notes she brought with her. 

“I understand that we already have a tank, which is great. An IS-3 if my notes are right and it was donated by a group of students in this room. Where are my generous students?

Ray and his friends raised their hands.

“Oh, you boys.” said Gabrielle.

“That was cool of you. It goes without saying that the IS-3 will be crewed by you. But, as it is the only tank we have for now, it’ll be used as a training aide. Let’s head outside.”

Gabrielle lead everyone outside to the IS-3, which was still in the same spot from yesterday. 

“If I remember right, this vehicle has four positions; Commander, gunner, loader, and driver. Now, not all tanks will four spots. Some may have more or less. When its less, some people will have to fulfill more than one role. For instance, the commander of the IS-3 is also the radio operator .

Everyone was listening intently but for Valarie, she was over the moon. This is exactly what she dreamt about. She relished every single moment. Gabrielle climbed on top of the hull. She opened hatches and took a look at the interior. For being maintained by students, it was in good shape.

“Alright, everyone line up. It’s time to be acquainted with tanks. Use the hand holds to climb and enter the turret.”

For three hours, each and every student entered the IS-3 got familiar with each of the positions and learned what to expect when they get their own tanks. Except for the boys of course, they were already well acquainted with their vehicle. When Valarie sat in the commander’s position, she nearly squealed with excitement. So much so that she completely ignored how dreadfully uncomfortable the seat was. Afterwards, Gabrielle made every student have an opportunity to drive the tank. Nearly everyone stalled the tank and even the better drivers only made it 50 feet before stalling it themselves. But, it provided valuable experience and that is something the team needs in loads. As the meeting drew to a close, Gabrielle gathered everyone together.

“Today was a good day. You all learned the basics but we won’t get better with just one tank. We need more.”

“Do you know where to find them?” asked one of the girls.

Gabrielle thought for a moment, then she gestured Redwood toward her. 

“So, there’s this junkyard about an hour out...”

“Junkyard? We need working tanks!” Redwood objected.

“Look Martin, the tanks we’ll buy there will be way cheaper than going through a dealership. Besides, fixing them up will teach the team invaluable mechanical skills.”

Redwood acquiesced. 

“Alright.”

He turned toward the team.

“Okay on Saturday, we’ll all be going to a..yard to get tanks. This will be a field trip so you’ll need permission slips. You’ll get them during first period tomorrow.”

With that, the second meeting of the Tankery team has concluded. Everyone headed home exhausted but in good spirits. Though they currently only have one tank, they were making great progress. Soon, they'll be practicing and others were looking forward to their first match. For now, they are focused on getting more vehicles.  


_ Saturday _

An hour’s drive from Barstow laid a junkyard filled with hundreds of vehicles, abandoned and derelict. They sat there at the mercy of the harsh desert sun. As the clocked ticked to 9 A.M, a yellow school bus rolled up. As it parked, Redwood and Buchanan were the first two passengers to get off, followed by a collection of students, a good portion of who still half asleep. As Gabrielle went and talked to the owner of the junkyard, Redwood addressed the team.

“Once we get more tanks, we’ll be meeting earlier in the day. So get used to it now. I have.”

Gabrielle returned.

“Okay, the owner gave us private access till 12:30 to look around. Let’s get to it.” 

Like a theme park, the team bolted into the junkyard. They immediately splintered off into smaller groups and spread out. Valarie, Emma, and Heather were together searching for a tank of their own. They passed by cars, bikes, and innumerable pieces of scrap metal. Any tanks they did see was just the hull, its innards gutted out long ago .

“There  _ are  _ tanks here, right?” asked Emma.

“Surely, there has to be.” Valarie said. 

As the trio rounded a corner, they saw a solitary girl laying of a vehicle that was shaded from the sun. Valarie recognized her easily from her chemistry class. Her short hair, rounded sunglasses and perpetual need to always wear a tank top made her unmistakable. 

“Hey there Ashley...what are you up too?” greeted Valarie.

Ashley shifted a little. Then answered.

“Taking a nap. It’s too early to do anything. Also, I want shade from the sun. I sunburn waaay too easy.

“Have you found anything?” asked Valarie

“Well I’d had to be looking in the first place to find anything.” Ashley replied

“Val, be cool and say I was looking. I just wanna rest a bit...I’ll look in an hour..or two”

The trio made a few steps to leave but Heather stopped them. She was excitedly pointing at the vehicle Ashley was lounging on. 

“Oh my god…” Emma said softly.

“Why are you guys acting so weird?” inquired Ashley. 

“Ashley...you found the right place to take a nap on.” Valarie said joyfully. 

Perplexed, Ashley got off where she was and looked at where she was resting. She made the same realization everyone else had. Her ‘bed’ was in fact, a tank. Valarie took a look around and touched the front.

“Medium tank, Russian T-44, 85mm gun.”

Ashley raised her hands in the air.

“All part of the plan.” she said sarcastically. 

The four moved the surrounding scrap metal around the tank so that they can have a better look. Valarie climbed onto the tank and opened the commander’s hatch to peer inside. It was dirty but everything was there. A good day in a garage will get this thing in great shape. 

“Guess this is our tank.” Emma said cheerfully. 

While Valarie, Heather, and Emma chatted away, Ashley stood aside, scratching the back of her head. She felt a tiny bit awkward. 

“Hey um..guys. Can I...uh...join ya?”

Valarie approached her and extended her hand. Ashley did the same and the two shook hands

“Of course. You did find the tank after all. Besides, we need four people to operate it anyway.” 

The four stood in front of their T-44. The stories the thing could tell, if it could speak. They remained there silently for a few moments before Emma broke the silence.

“We should find Miss Buchanan. Let her know we found a tank.” 

As the girls looked for their instructor, other groups had similar luck and found their own vehicles. 

“Hey this one kinda looks like a...um..” a girl paused and looked at her phone.

“...a Sherman but its too different, and there’s a kangaroo painted on it. Why?”

Another group in different corner made a find.

“This one is flat as hell...and has no turret!!” one exclaimed 

At the rear of the junkyard, one group found an oddity.

“Hey we found a ta--Wait a minute! This isn’t a tank! This thing has wheels!” yelled a girl.

“Can we even use this?” said another. 

After a brief walkabout, Valarie and her friends found Gabrielle, standing before a tank. As they caught up with her, they saw what Gabrielle was looking at. Before them was a tank that was heavily damaged. In addition to it being rusted all over, all of its hatches had severe burn marks. 

“Woah...was this-” Valarie began

“Yup. This was my tank. Where I almost died.”

Gabrielle put her hands on her tank. Actually doing so required considerable effort, as if the air suddenly became gelatin. She had to power through. Once she did, she felt empowered, a feeling that was noticeably absent in her life. In her heart, she knew that she was doing the right thing, but it made it no less emotional. Tears streamed down her cheeks. 

“Is this why we are here?” asked Emma respectfully.

Gabrielle sniffled.

“Partly.”

She wiped the tears of her face and turned toward the girls .

“So, you guys found some armor?”

“Yep. A T-44.” answered cheerfully.

“Good. Now that vehicle, if I’m remembering right, needs a crew of four and I am assuming that the four of you are operating it, yes?”

They nodded.

“Nice. That’s two tanks.” Gabrielle said.

A group of students appeared.

“Miss Buchanan, we found a tank but we don’t know what exactly it is.” one of the girls reported.

“No problem, we’ll just head over there and identify-”

As she was speaking, another group rounded the corner.

“Miss Buchanan, we found a tank.”

“Okay one sec…”

And another.

“Instructor!”  


All of the sudden, Gabrielle was surrounded by the team, all of them asking the same thing. She raised her hands in the air. 

“Alright!” she yelled, shushing the crowd.

“One at a time, I’ll get to everyone.”

Gabrielle was lead to each and every tank that the team uncovered. She identified them and catalogued them on her clipboard. 

  * __T-44__
  * _M5 Stuart_
  * _Sd.Kfz 234/2 Puma_
  * _ACIV Thunderbolt_
  * _Cromwell IV_
  * _Jagdpaner IV/70 (V)_
  * _VK 30.02 M_. 

All the vehicles the students found were collected and moved toward the front of the junkyard. The team were ecstatic, and had some questions regarding some of the vehicles. The group that found the Puma asked,

“Can this thing even be used? It’s not a tank. It’s a beefed-up car.” 

Gabrielle studied the vehicle for a moment. 

“Yeah this is permitted. Despite the name, non-tanks can be driven in Tankery. If only tanks were allowed, then tank destroyers couldn’t be used, and that’s no fun really.”

Valarie walked up to the VK. It’s size was comparable to the T-44. There was also an intense familiarity attached to it.

“This thing is a Panther in everything but name.”

Gabrielle laughed a little.

“Well not quite. There are some differences in armor thickness but this vehicle would eventually become the Panther during the war. In Tankery circles, the VK is known as the ‘Budget Panther’, so it’s perfect for us.” 

As the team continued to admire their vehicles, Gabrielle went up to Redwood.

“Well, Martin, what ya think about our haul?”

He looked at the tanks with a wide grin.

“This is fantastic!” he replied. 

From an office behind them, a rough looking man walked out. He went up to the adults. 

“You folks done shopping?” he asked

“Ah...yes. Let’s get right to business.” Redwood responded. 

The two men entered the office. Within, Redwood sat a table while the junkyard owner typed away on his computer.

“So, what’s the damage?” inquired Redwood.

The man continued to type. He then swung his monitor around so Redwood could see.

“Here.” he uttered.

Redwood scrutinized the number. It was higher than he liked but not absurdly expensive. Though, that was a good chunk of the budget. As he signed the check, his mind was racing to think about how to raise more money. When he gave the check to the owner, he happily stored it in his safe.

“Pleasure doing business Mr. Redwood. Those vehicles will be delivered to your school Monday."

He departed the office and returned to the team.

“These tanks are ours now.” he said proudly. 

The team cheered. As 12:30 drew near, they boarded the bus and the ride back to school was alive with excited chatter as people talked non-stop about their tanks. They were intensely eager to learn every bolt and weld on their machines. When they returned to the high schools, everyone dispersed to their homes to enjoy the weekend. Upon Valarie’s return to her home, her mom greeted her. 

“Hey honey, was the trip good?” 

“Oh man was it!” she exclaimed 

Daughter told mother about her day and throughout town the scene repeated. A place where Tankery died long ago was now being resurrected. The news spread and it got people talking. There was a mood in the air, not yet electric, but it was growing. As the Mojave Rose High School Tankery team got on its feet, the people of Barstow too made their preparations, both in expected and unexpected ways. 

Valarie spent her weekend watching her old Tankery tapes, the ones she has watched countless times. As day turned into night, only the glow of the television illuminated her room. It was on low volume to not disturb her sleeping mother. Tape after tape, she watched with an enthusiasm than has not been tempered. This weekend was the best that she could ask for. Nothing but tanks.

And more was yet to come. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team shapes up and prepares for their first match in a few months.
> 
> They do have a few months, right?

_Monday_

_October 29th, 2012_

At the crack of dawn, a convoy of heavy-duty trucks rumbled down the vacant roads of Barstow. Their cargo; armored vehicles. Their destination; Mojave Rose High School. The lead truck of the convoy then turned onto a side road and the rest of the trucks followed, kicking up dust and all sorts of desert debris. They made their presence known as their thunderous engine echoed throughout the area. This side road lead them to the rear of the high school, to a garage long derelict. Vice-principal Martin Redwood was within.

Redwood has been in the garage for half an hour already. He was early to meet the delivery, but also to reminisce. It was 20 years since tanks last called this place home. Brought back a whole slew of memories. He then chucked a bit to himself as he remembered him gunning to the school to tear the place down as it was just collecting dust.

"It's an accident waiting to happen!" he said long ago.

What prevented its demolition was that the process was just too expensive. So there it lay, at the mercy of the elements. Oh how things turn out. When Redwood first entered, he was surprised to find out that the lights still functioned when he flicked them up. This place looks more robust than it looks. He was sweeping for a bit but stopped when he heard the approaching sounds of trucks. He headed outside to meet them.

The first truck parked in front of the garage. The driver hopped out with clipboard in hand.

"Redwood..right? We got some tanks 'ere for that guy." he said

"Yeah. You're right on schedule."

"Sweet. Sign here."

Redwood was handed the clipboard and signed for the delivery.

"Just have that there garage open and we'll take care of the rest."

The main doors of the garage were opened and the delivery-men got right to work. One by one, each of the vehicles were driven off the trailers and parked neatly within the garage. Redwood watched and listened. He was hearing for any quirks in the engines but found nothing too alarming. The engines sounded old but that was a given but other than that they were in decent condition. He was surprised, considering they were from a junkyard. The last vehicle, the Puma, was parked place. After the delivery-men admired their handiwork for a moment, they departed. Redwood was now alone in the garage. It was a sight to behold. He peaked at his watch.

_6:07 A.M_

By the end of the hour, the dormant campus will soon come to life with the hustle and bustle of the student body. As he continued to look at the vehicles, a group of people entered the garage. It was the school's maintenance staff.

"Mornin' Redwood." greeted Miguel.

"Morning fellas, got all the stuff I requested?"

"We sure did."

Each of the maintenance staff were pulling a heavy toolbox, filled to the brim with all the needed tools and accessories fit for a mechanics shop. The exact things needed to maintain a battalion of armored vehicles.

"Great. Put 'em by that wall and get this place in good shape 'cause we're gonna be busy it here"

Redwood left as he had other business to attend to. The maintenance staff got to work. As 7 o'clock ticked, the campus was already seeing the arrival of students, Valarie among them. With her, as always, was Emma. The pair were sitting on benches, talking and laughing like nothing else mattered.

"Normally, I look forward to the end of the day as it means we'd get to go home. Now, I stay on campus longer and I actually love it." Valarie remarked.

"Amazing how much things can change in just a week." Emma said.

"This semester is going to be amazing. I can feel it."

The two girls clasped hands. Whatever happens during Tankery, they'll do it together. The first bell of the day rang and they went to their respective classes. In Valarie's first period class, she chatted with Heather. The conservation was as weird as usual and Valarie enjoyed every word. It appears that Heather has spent her weekend reading about alien encounters. What fun. The topic soon shifted to Miss Buchanan.

"You talked to her over the weekend?" questioned Valarie.

"Briefly. Her mood has transformed. She's more...happy. Happy to have the role that she has. I'm glad, really. Before all this, she was kinda depressing to be around."

'That's good to hear."

First period class progressed like any other day. Valarie listened and took notes. There was no deviation from the routine. It was during chemistry was there a change. Upon entering, she saw Ashley sitting in the rear lab station. In lieu of her usual tank top, she was wearing a t-shirt and overalls.

"This a new look...or?" asked Valarie.

"No. This is for the Tankery meeting later. We'll be working on tanks so we're supposed to wear clothes we don't mind getting dirty. You read the text in the group chat, right?"

Without missing a beat, Valarie showed Ashley her bulging backpack and slapped it.

"Sure did. They're in here."

Ashley smiled.

"So, what do you know about maintaining tanks?" she inquired

"Not a damn thing."

"Same."

"It'll be a learning experience. Soon enough, we'll be fixin' engines on the move."

The couldn't help but giggle. Soon though, the good cheer between evaporated the moment class began. The subject was as soul-crushing as ever. Just had to tough it out. Like any other day.

The dismissal bell is perhaps the most harmonious sound to ever bless the ears of a student. As soon as it sounded, Valarie headed into the nearest bathroom. She entered a stall and stripped down and put on the clothes she brought. Coincidentally, they were also overalls. Once in the proper attire, she went straight toward Room 34. En-route, she met up with her friends. To the surprise of all, they were all wearing overalls.

"If our fashion sense are already sync...would that mean our-" Emma began a joke but laughed before she could finish it.

The rest of the girls didn't get it.

Upon their arrival at the room, it was already filled with the team, chatting with one another. The majority of team, too, were wearing overalls. While the tank roster was diverse, it seems that the team had no diversity of thought. Nonetheless, they were ready for work on their vehicles. Instructor Buchanan entered the room, silencing the room.

"Good afternoon everyone. Today will be another big day. We'll be getting our vehicles in order and get familiar with them. But first, we need to get roles settled. The people who found their tanks will group up."

The room shuffled around as people got into the groups as they did on Saturday.

"Now…" Buchanan began.

"...the commander role is something a lot of new tankers covet but it isn't everything. Don't let your ego decide for you. Each role is vital so choose a job that you believe you can excel in."

The team was abuzz with conversation, with the exception of Ray and his friends. They were just chilling around as they already figured out roles. For Valarie and her friends, there were some choices to be made.

"Alright...who wants to do what?" asked Emma.

There was a brief silence.

"Um…" uttered Heather.

Valarie's eyes lit up.

"Oh...Heather!" she exclaimed.

"What?"

"Can you be our driver? You already have a license and drove the IS-3 the farthest!"

"It was 50 feet."

"50 feet more than us."

Heather pondered. Out of the four, she did have the most driving experience. Though, even just an hour of experience would still be more than the others combined. Still, the sensation of driving a tank was like nothing else. Successfully shifting gears of such a beast was immensely satisfying. Also, if she can master driving a tank then she could handle any car in the world with ease. She accepted.

"Yeah, I'll be your driver. I'll be a damn good one."

The strong conviction from an otherwise introverted person was surprising and yet at the same time, exciting.

"What's left?" asked Ashley.

"Gunner, loader, and commander." Valarie answered.

"Hmm, loader. Gotta be strong for that job huh?

Ashley pulled back her shirt and flexed, revealing some muscles.

"I've done a bit of weight lifting. I think being a loader would be best for me...more opportunities to work out my arms.

That's two. Emma and Valarie looked at each other.

"What speaks to you more Emma, gunner or commander?" Valarie inquired.

"Well, if you want my opinion on who wants what, I think the person who won't shut up about Tankery oughta be the commander."

Heather and Ashley nodded in agreement. Valarie's cheeks were as red as a rose.

"Wow…" she said flustered.

"The only thing I can say is thank you and I'll do my best."

The roles were chosen and agreed upon. The four girls could only smile. The rest of the groups finished shortly after.

"I hope you are all satisfied with your roles." said Buchanan.

"Now to get out hands dirty...let's head out."

The team was lead outside to the garage situated on the outskirts of campus. For all of them, it was a place of mystery, never knowing what it's purpose was. For the longest time, the garage was beset by all sorts of rumors. Some say it's haunted. Others claim that a local cryptid call the garage home. These stories sparked a level of nervousness among the freshmen. The upper-class students shared this anxiety as well but hid it better. Have to show a good example after all. They entered the garage through a rear door and as soon as they did, all of their negative emotions were wiped away upon being reunited with their vehicles.

"Alright, everyone to your tanks!" yelled Buchanan.

The team splinted as they went to their tanks. In a short amount of time, each vehicle has an excited group of students in front of them. Redwood and the maintenance staff arrived, each carrying large buckets of soapy water.

"Cleaning your vehicles is the first step on the road of success. Let's get started." he said.

Each group was assigned two buckets and got to work. In no time at all, everyone was soaked. Valarie and her crew were scrubbing tank clean but some stains refused to be removed. Ashley, annoyed, threw her sponge into the bucket and walked away. She soon returned hauling a canister behind her.

"Clear out of the way!" she yelled.

The girls sidestepped the hell away from the T-44 as Ashley turned on the powerwasher. A great jet of pressurized water came out the nozzle and Ashley managed to control the spray. The tank was blasted and years of dirt, dust, and rust were expunged. At the end of it, the iconic green paint of Soviet tanks was on proud display. The girls took a moment to admire their work. They were the first ones to finish. Valarie elected to walk around and see how everyone else was doing. She was looking at the other tanks when there was a tap on her shoulder.

'Hey, you're the girl who knows all about tanks right? What can you tell us about that?"

The girl pointed toward the Jagdpanzer.

"Well, it's not a tank firstly." Valarie said.

"It's a tank destroyer...or an assault gun. Depends who you ask."

"Alright then...but why is it so flat though?" she asked.

"Concealment. Designed from the get-go to be an excellent ambusher."

"Ambush eh?" the girl said all giddy.

"Maybe this thing won't be all that bad."

The girl departed but Valarie only took 5 steps before being accosted by another girl.

"Valarie...right? I looked up our tank and found that the design for it was canceled! Does that mean the tank is bad?" she asked in a concerned tone

"Not necessarily. If I remember right, it was only canceled because Australia no longer needed it because they bought Shermans instead. The vehicle has the potential to be great, that 17-pounder is nothing to scoff at."

Comforted by what Valarie said, the girl returned to her crew. In the few minutes she spent talking, news spread rapidly throughout the garage that she was the go-to person to talk about anything and everything about tanks. It was only inevitable that she'd be swarmed by people who had questions about their tanks. It was overwhelming at first, but Valarie managed to answer each question thrown at her. After all that, she leaned against the wall. It was quite the experience. A lone freshman approached.

"How will a Tankery match go down?" she asked shyly.

"In two ways; It's either an elimination match or a flag match. Elimination is self-explanatory. Just knock out all the enemy tanks. In a flag match, one tank on each team has a flag on them. The goal would be to knock them out to win the match."

The freshman nodded in understanding. She had one more question.

"When is our first match?"  
"I don't know. Miss Buchanan might have an idea but it's too early to know. What's your name by the way?

"Marielle." she answered.

"Commander of the VK. We call it the 'Baby Panther'.

That information made Valarie laugh.

"Well, Marielle, glad to know your already loving your tank, but right now, we need to focus on getting our vehicles in order."

They departed and Valarie made her way back to her tank. But, she was then stopped by another. But it wasn't a student. It was the instructor.

"I've been watching you, answering all those questions. The team is looking up to you and in that little episode, you've demonstrated leadership. I'm going to hazard a guess and say you're the commander of the T-44."

Valarie nodded.

"Thought so. So, after seeing that, I've decided to make you the head commander of the team. It'll entail more responsibility but I believe not only will you manage, you'll thrive. How about it?"

The offer Buchanan set forth was something Valarie thought was only possible in her dreams. She eagerly accepted.

"I will Miss Buchanan. I will not let anyone down!"

The afternoon spent cleaning tanks went on for a few hours, time that flew by for the team. The meeting came to an end and the exhausted and soaked Tankery team headed to their homes. Though Valarie was tired, upon returning home, she did not immediately collapse on her bed and take a welcome nap. She had something important to do. After dinner, she was in her room, computer on her lap. The typing of the keyboard was the only noise in the room. She inputted in the search bar,

_Miho Nishizumi_

She was already familiar with the Japanese tanker, but there was always more to learn about her. Specifically, it was her strategy. Valarie when from forum to message board that was dedicated to Tankery. Those based in the West were sparse in details concerning Nishizumi. Anything that was said was things Valarie already knew about. Basic stuff. Discussion on her strategy was non-existent. It was the Japanese forums that had the information she sought. They had to be auto-translated but she read enough broken English to get the gist of things. Luckily for her, on one such forum, a user has created a document that detailed Ooarai's strategy during their matches. Even in garbled English, it was a treasure trove of information. With a pen and paper at hand, she set to work organizing the information. Pravda. Anzio. Saunders. Kuromorimine. All those and more were talked about at length. Even Nishizumi's Tankery time before she attended Ooarai was touched upon. If Miho wasn't as known as she was in Japan, this could be considered stalking. Perhaps it already it.

In the end, Valarie had a rough edition of the team's strategy playbook. It would need some refinement and input from Buchanan but she was proud all the same. Valarie does not intend to simply copy what Nishizumi has achieved, her 'style' it was called. Rather, she intends to use it as a foundation to build upon it. Overtime, develop her own style. She closed the playbook. This will definitely be worked on throughout her entire Tankery career. She will treat the book as a prized possession. Valarie glanced at her phone.

_10:43 P.M_

She put away her things and turned off the lights. She suspected that she'll need every ounce of energy come tomorrow.

Her suspicions were true. Tuesday's Tankery meeting would demand all her energy and then some. For today was when the team would literally learn the nuts and bolts.

"Be careful not to strip the bolts!" instructed Buchanan.

Each group were working on the engines of their vehicles. The sound of alive engines filled the garage along with the working of tools. As Ray and the boys have their IS-3 in good enough shape, they were dispersed among the team helping where they could, but soon enough, even they needed help when things got too complex.

"I just...have no idea what to do with this." said Cesar, holding track repair tools.

Ray was handed the tools where he then studied them closely.

"I got nothing." he finally uttered.

Valarie and her crew were tending to their tank. Heather sat in the driver's seat while the other three were at the rear.

"Give the engine some revs!" yelled Valarie.

Heather complied and pushed on the accelerator. The engine of the T-44 roared.

"What are we listening for?" Emma asked loudly

"Honestly, I don't know. I'm just hoping what that what we're hearing is normal" Valarie responded.

The engine cut out.

"Shit." Valarie cursed.

"This engine might be in trouble." Ashley chimed in.

Heather climbed out of the driver's hatch and went to the rear.

"We're outta gas."

Relieved that the problem was not at all serious, they returned their attention to the engine. They climbed onto the rear to get a better look, Heather went to fetch some fuel. When her dad was home and his semi-truck parked nearby, he'd bring her out when he had to do maintenance. She would recall him saying,

"Watch closely Val, if you can take care of a big ol' truck you can take care of any car in the world. It's an important life skill. Mechanics are scum. They scam people and their favorite targets are women who don't know a thing about their cars."

Her dad had a low opinion of mechanics, to put it lightly. Ever since he got cheated out of $1200 for a 'repair' that was 'neccessary', he swore off going to a mechanic ever again and has done all the repairs and maintenance of the family's vehicles since then. Valarie will make him proud by getting the T-44 in superb shape.

The three girls were standing on top of the rear of the vehicle, looking down on the engine.

"Hmm, nothing obvious looks wrong." remarked Valarie.

The heat radiating from the engine prevented any of them from touching it. Visual inspection was all that they could do.

"Actually, that engine belt looks pretty...eh...sketch. It could snap anytime. Let's replace that."

Emma and Ashley nodded as if they totally knew what Valarie meant. They wish they could do more to help, but they just don't know much. Like everyone else, they will have to learn. Valarie left and returned with a replacement. The engine cooled enough for one to get closer.

"Okay, I'm going to ask you guys to do something and it'll be weird but it has to be done."

Emma and Ashley each had puzzled expressions.

"I want you guys to hold me by the ankles and drop me down into the engine so I replace that belt."

After a brief hesitation, the two girls grabbed Valaire by her ankles and slowly dropped her down the engine. She was heavier than she looked, the girls were straining during this task.

"Lower...lower...there! Stop! Okay...how did Dad do it?"

Valarie remembered and took only a minute to replace the engine belt. For Emma and Ashley, it might as well have been an hour. Valarie moved her legs and the two girls pulled her up.

"I'd say I'd never do that again but I know that won't be true." Ashley said, her breathing a bit labored.

Valarie gave a sympathetic smile.

As everyone was working on their vehicles, Instructor Buchanan was walking around. She too was helping where she could. Valarie saw her and flagged her done.

"Hey Miss Buchanan, what's the situation around here?"

"Better than I thought. No engines will need to be replaced, any problems were fixed relatively easily. Any issues with your tank?"

"Not anything we couldn't happen. We're on our way."

"Good. Be safe now."

Buchanan left as Heather arrived with a canister of fuel. The tank was filled and the engine was turned on. They all looked at the engine as it was idling. After a few minutes and nothing wrong was detected by any of then, the tank was turned off. The four entered the tank to inspect the interior. When Ashely sat in the loader's position, she looked beside her at the ammo rack. They were empty, for now, but the space where the rounds would do indicated how big the rounds will be. Her mind didn't have to wander too far to imagine how heavy they would be. Already she was visualizing grabbing a shell and loading it into the gun. A technique that she would need to perfect.

Emma sat in the gunner's position. She was fascinated by all the mechanical parts needed for the ZiS-S-53 85mm cannon to function. Once she was done looking around, she brought her face closer to the gunsight and peered through. She saw the crosshair and associated markings to make out the range of a target. They made no sense to her at first but the more she looked at it, the more she understood the logic behind it. Her attention shifted to the elevation cranks, with one of them, sporting the trigger. She placed her hands on the controls and moved them. With the engine off, the T-44 had no electrics, so she to hand-crank the turret. She rotated the turret slightly to the left. Then she pressed the trigger, which produced a loud click, startling the crew. Even without power, she enjoyed handling the gun. She couldn't wait to fire the thing.

In a relatively isolated position was where Heather sat. When testing the engine earlier, she was keeping watch of the gauges. To her satisfaction, they worked properly and gave the right readings. The gear shifter, though old, shifted smoothly enough. What surprised her the most was the total absence of a steering wheel. Instead was two maneuvering sticks that dictated the direction of the vehicle. Heather recalled hearing that driving a tank was akin to driving two cars at the same time. This must be what they meant.

In the commander position, Valarie took a gander at the viewports and periscopes. All the amenities needed for a commander to observe the battlefield. They were a bit dirty though, Valarie wiped away the grime. The position was quite cramped for a 16-year old. She couldn't imagine how a man twice her age would be able to sit here. They must've been short. Overall, despite showing its age, the T-44 was in good shape. Just an afternoon of some tender love and care was all that was needed to get the vehicle ready for action. The girls exited the tank. The day was as tiring as it was satisfying. In the garage's office, Buchanan and Redwood were within talking logistics.

"Okay, we got real lucky that we don't need any major repairs. Anything that needed fixin' was done so with what we got on hand. Still, sooner or later, something important will need replacing. So placed an order on some parts just to have them on hand."

Buchanan sat just on the other side.

"And what about ammo?" she asked.

"Well...that's something I wanted to talk about with you. We only had just enough with what's leftover of the grant to buy a full load. Right now, we just have $2000 dollars on hand. Not enough for a refill."

Buchanan let out a quick chuckle.

"Heh, I don't suppose a bake sale would bring in enough cash for our needs, eh?" she said.

They sat quietly for a few moments. Redwood then had an idea.

"Say, you'd consider Tankery a motorsport, yeah?" he asked.

"Um…" said Buchanan, scratching the back of her head.

"Motorsports, by definition, is anything that involves the racing of vehicles. But, if you want to be technical, I guess Tankery would qualify. What are you on about?"

"Okay, take NASCAR for example." he explained

"When you think of their race cars, what comes to mind?"

"Something loud, fast, and covered with ads" she replied.

"Yeah, those markings are quite distinctive, aren't they?"

Buchanan figured out where Redwood was going at.

"Sponsors? I dunno Martin. It turns me the wrong way thinking about the Coca-Cola logo slapped on a tank."

"Ah, don't be silly. They won't be on the tanks. Sponsors will be displayed on their uniforms."

"Oh, the ones we don't have?"

Redwood chuckled.

"The money leftover should take care of uniforms. Once we get them, we'll really cement that 'official-ness'. Do you mind taking care of that?

Buchanan sighed softly.

"Sure Martin, I'll take care of it. But do we need to focus on uniforms so soon? The team hasn't really taken their vehicles on a proper drive yet."

"The sooner the better. The team will love it. Boost that morale, ya know?"

Redwood's computer made a ping. A new email has just come in.

"An email from the district? At this hour? Curious…" reacted Redwood.

He opened and read the email. As he did, he sunk into his chair.

"What's up Martin" Buchanan asked.

Redwood exhaled deeply.

"Our first match is on November 24th."

Buchanan stood up.

"What the fu-? I thought it wasn't till January? That's not even a _month_ Martin! Why the hell did they change the date?!"

"It reads here that...the Association doesn't want the national competition to overlap with the world tournament."

Buchanan couldn't process the information she just heard.

"Why the hell does the Association care that the matches overlap?

"Because the school that wins the nationals will go on and represent the United States on the world stage." Martin said plainly.

Buchanan sat back in her chair in disbelief.

"Jesus…" was all she could say.

"Our first proper practice will be on Saturday. We'll need every hour between now and the 24th."

After a good bit of sulking, Buchanan rose.

"Not just Saturday. Every weekend, from 6 A.M to 4 P.M, we will have practice. On weekdays we will hone other skills. Navigation. Firefighting. Repair. Everything and anything necessary to get this team ready."

"That's...a huge commitment. More than I think the team is already giving."

Well, let's just ask them. Let them know the good news."

Buchanan left the office and gathered the team. She climbed on top the Cromwell IV.

"I have an announcement. There's been some news. Originally, our first match was set in January, giving us a few months to train. As of today, we now only have a few weeks. Our first match is on the 24th of November."

Immediately there was a murmur among the team. A concerned murmur. People conversed with others.

"Between now and then, we will meet at school every Saturday and Sunday from 6 to 4. We will drill like no other team has done before. I know I am asking _a lot_. More than most of you are agreed to give. If you want to back out, you can. No one here will give you any grief about it."

Not a single soul moved an inch. While anxious about and fast approaching match, in all of them, there was this intense resolve. A determination to succeed. A thought permeated in all their minds.

Whatever it takes.

Buchanan was moved by the actions of the team. They didn't have to do what they did, but those kids were something else. She was beaming with pride. The team put away all the tools and cleaned up the garage. It was nearing 6:30 when they were finally dismissed. Before they all left, Valarie gave Buchanan the playbook she had written.

"This took me all night to make. It's rough but I hope it's good enough for now. I'd love your input on it."

Buchanan accepted the book and flipped through a few pages.

"Impressive. You sure do know your stuff. I made the right call making you the head commander. Thanks Val."

In her drive home, Buchanan was filled with thought. Less than a month to get ready. Is such a thing even possible? Is there enough time? These thoughts of doubt existed for a moment before being erased.

They were not needed.

When she entered her apartment, she grabbed a cold drink from the fridge and drank in silence. Yet her mood was different compared to the week before. Radically so. Instead of wallowing in the darkness, the lights illuminated the living room. There was a drive in her that was missing for two decades. She finished her drink. She had a pending matter to attend to. She grabbed her phone and dialed a number.

"Barstow Military Surplus. Name's Jim, how can I help ya?" said the voice.

"I'm looking for tank uniforms, World War 2 era. Got any in stock?" inquired Buchanan.

There was a brief commotion over the phone.

"Sure do ma'am. We got French, Soviet, British, German, and American."

"I'll take the American uniforms, in a tan color if you got 'em"

"Okay ma'am, US Army tank uniform with helmet and boots. How much do you need?"

"33."

"We only sell bulk in quantities in 50, will that be alright?"

Buchanan sighed softly.

"Whatever, it's fine."

"Destination?"

"Mojave Rose High School."

"Oh. Please hold ma'am."

Buchanan was a bit puzzled. She braced for bad news. There was the sound of the phone being exchanged.

"Good evening ma'am. I am the owner of this here establishment. I understand that the uniforms that you are ordering is to be sent to be the high school. Any relation to the new Tankery team we've been hearing about?"

"Yeah. They're for the team." responded Buchanan.

"In that case, I am more than happy to donate these uniforms along with some other equipment. How soon will you need them."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Um..tomorrow! This means the world to us! Thank you."

"Always happy to help a local team. We'll get you what you need real soon. Good luck!"

The phone call ended. Buchanan reclined on her sofa. Tears streamed down her face. Not of sadness, but of joy. Something she hadn't had for years. She needed that. She really did.

In another part of town, Valarie was in bed. Her energy was sapped and her bed was nice and soft. Her windows were open so that she could listen to the ambiance of the sleepy town. She heard the distant noise of the I-15 freeway and the occasional fly-by of aircraft. It was soothing in an odd way. Every once in a while, she would be greeted with a cool autumn breeze. The perfect conditions for Valarie to fall asleep. Just before she did, she burst into laughter, which she had to muffle with her pillow.

She just figured out Emma's syncing joke.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mojave Rose Tankery Team trains for their match as if the world is about to end. It's tiring. It's exhausting. It's fun!
> 
> But time is the enemy. Have they done enough?

The next day was marked by the arrival of the ammunition and uniforms. Inside the garage, boxes and crates were piled on top of each other. They were all filled to the brim with tank rounds of various caliber and machine-gun belts. The uniforms were in Room 34, where the team was currently at. They were trying them on. Suffice to say, there was a lot of laughing. When Valarie got her uniform, she looked at it closely. Its tan color resembled the sand that she knew all too well. When she put them on, they were rather snug, the shirt and pants feeling alright. The boots were of aged brown leather. They felt rather nice for military boots. The cuffs of her pants were stuffed into them, just the way she liked it. The helmet was another component of the uniform. When she placed it on her head it felt...right. A feeling that she could not properly put into words. The eye protection was the cherry on top. She slid them over her eyes and looked at a mirror. Was the person in the mirror really her? Can someone actually look that cool?

"Valarie…" said Emma, breaking her from her trance.

"God, we look great don't we?"

Valarie looked at her crew. They were all identically dressed as her.

"Hm. I dunno how I feel about this grab." Ashley admitted.

She pulled the sleeves back up to her elbows, revealing her arms.

"Ah, that's better."

As the team got comfortable with their uniforms, Buchanan opened another box.

"In addition to the uniforms that were graciously donated, that surplus store also gave us some other helpful things." she explained

Each crew were assigned shovels. The team couldn't understand why but they all agreed that it was cool. Canteens, flashlights, fire extinguishers, flares, and bandanas were also passed around. Things that the team could envision all sorts of uses. For commanders, they were given binoculars and compasses. Upon receiving them, Valarie strung the binoculars around her neck and checked her compass. A surreal feeling. She loved it.

Once the last item was passed out Buchanan called the team to attention.

"Names are important. It goes without saying that collectively we are named the Dust Devils…"

Redwood grinned in the back.

"...but rather than call each other by our names we will instead use call signs. What works for the military will work for us. Each group will think of one. Let's keep to the desert theme, okay?"

Valarie and her crew convened.

"Alright guys, what comes to mind?" began Ashley

"Animals? Plants? Or maybe something else?"

The girls thought for a moment. All around them, they heard people spit out their suggestions to their own groups. The atmosphere was near chaotic. Heather said something but was drowned out by the room.

"Come again, Heather?" asked Valaire.

Heather repeated herself but again, no one heard.

"Sorry Heather, can't hear you." said Emma.

Annoyed, she spoke one more.

The room was still too loud.

"What?" uttered Ashley.

Exasperated, Heather with all her strength pounded the table and yelled.

"OASIS!"

The room fell silent. All eyes of the room were fixated on her. She never wanted to die more than on that moment.

"Um...that's our...callsign"

She sank as far as she could in her chair.

"Well...glad your passionate about it." remarked Buchanan.

The rest of the room resumed brainstorming. Soon, they had them, vaguely, in a desert theme.

T-44 _Oasis_

IS-3 _Juniper_

M5 Stuart _Nomad_

Puma _Mirage_

ACIV _Acacia_

Cromwell _Yucca_

VK 30.02 M _Arroyo_

Jagdpanzer IV _Mesquite_

Buchana finished writing them down.

"Great names guys." she said.

"Memorize yours and others. The last thing you want to think during a match is to hear these callsigns and say 'who's that?'."

The time spent in the room was short. As soon as names were figured out the team was led to the garage. They saw a multitude of crates. They gathered around Buchanan, crowbar in hand.

"This is something more for loaders, but I imagine that everyone will get a kick outta this."

She wedged the crowbar into the crate and popped it open. She dropped the tool and reached within, pulling out a round. There were sounds of amazement from the team.

"This is your American Tankery Association-sanctioned 75mm armor-piercing round. Also called Panzergranate 39 if you're that type of person. Will the loader of the VK please come up?"

A freshman from the crowd walked up. Though Valarie was just a grade above her, she couldn't help but notice how much of a babyface she had. Though, she would be saying the same thing about herself in a few years' time.

"Hold this" said Buchanan

The freshman was given the shell and held it up with some difficulty.

"Just by looking at her face, you can tell how heavy it is. The thing weighs 32 pounds. For loaders, it is not just important to have the strength to luge these shells but to also have the proper form to load them quickly and effectively." she lectured

"That is something that takes time to develop. Time that we don't have in abundance. For now though, let's get our vehicles loaded."

Each crew were shown the crate that had their ammunition. Slowly, one by one, they were hauled into their vehicles. Some had an easier time than others. For the crew of the M5 Stuart, it was a breeze.

"These 37mm shells...weight like nothing!" Mia said, commander of the Stuart.

"Yeah, I was afraid of getting sore." remarked Oliva, the loader.

"How many do we have to load, total?"

Mia checked the paper on the crate.

"147."

"Oh…" uttered Oliva.

Just shy over 3 pounds, the ammo for the Stuart were not at all taxing on the human body. It was the quantity that made the loading process laborious. Still, they had an easy time loading.

The same cannot be said for the crew of the IS-3.

"This is an endurance man...not only is the ammo in two pieces the projectile is god-damn 55 pounds and we gotta do this 28 times!" exclaimed Jeremy, out of breath.

Ray passed one of the projectiles to Ryan, who stored it on the appropriate rack.

"This is something we just gotta get used to." he said.

Valarie and her crew had a relatively easier time though those 20 pound 85mm shells definitely wore them down as they worked. Each girl was careful not to overexert themselves while loading. During this process, they chatted about the fast upcoming match.

"Does any of us really think the team can get into gear fast enough?" asked Ashley, a bit concerned.

None of them immediately responded. After a sigh, Valarie responded,

"The only thing we can do right now is try our best."

An hour elapsed when the team was finished with loading their machines. Once they were done, they were once again gathered by Buchanan.

"As you are all keenly aware, the Tankery training we will be going through will be...expedited. It'll be tough, really tough. But, by the end, it will be immensely rewarding. I really appreciate your dedication. All of you."

She reviewed the agenda for the day.

"Ah yes. Licenses. Tankery is one of the most regulated sports in the world. For drivers and radio operators, you'll need the appropriate licenses. In the coming days, you'll get the learning material and be informed of tests when they are scheduled."

The prospect of getting licenses excited some and added more worry for others. One one hand, a license added a degree of authenticity to what the team is doing. Plus, they can open up opportunities beyond Tankery. On the other hand, it is just another thing to do on an already long list. Nonetheless, they all remained determined.

The meeting for that day proceeded with more skill learning. Navigation was the most important and was heavily drilled. The team was shown a map that looked like it came straight off some military base. They were introduced to the Military Grid Reference System, something used by NATO countries. Though it was commanders who were expected to become well acquainted with the system, Buchanan ensured that everyone had some familiarity. You never know when someone has to navigate.

The meeting ended and everyone went home. The team had a wealth of information to process. The uniforms were taken home with them and it was their responsibility to take care of them. No one minded. They were eager to show them off to their families.

"Pose for me, baby" Valarie's mother said.

She was taking a million photos of her daughter in her uniform.

"Yeah..yeah! Now take your binoculars and pretend you're looking for the 'enemy'. That's it! Hold Still!"

More photos were taken and Valarie soon had enough.

"Mom, that's gotta be enough. Geez, I think the people who went to the moon took fewer photos than you."

Her mother smiled as she browsed her phone, looking at the pictures she took.

"Sorry honey, but I just wanted to make sure I got the perfect picture...and I did! Your dad is gonna love this!"

Valarie turned in early for the night. In the time leading up to the first match, she would need all the energy that she could gather. Her mind shifted to the playbook she had given to Buchanan. She said she was impressed but that was just her glancing through. Would her opinion hold upon further reading? And her input? Valarie had a small bit of doubt that due to Buchanan not being near a tank in 20 years would mean that whatever she added wouldn't be good. Though, from what she has seen from Buchanan as an instructor, she had some faith. All that she could do now is wait.

The rest of the meetings, up till Saturday, had the team focused on getting their skills up to snuff. At the start of the next day's meeting, Buchanan gave back the playbook to Valarie.

"Good stuff. Very good stuff. My additions are in red ink." she said

Valarie opened the binder and read through it. Here and there were red messages that added on to what she wrote. There were also seven new pages added, all dedicated to safety. A hint for things to come, for the team were about to be drilled in evacuation procedures.

"No matter how unlikely, if there is a major emergency in your vehicle, you'll need to know how to bail out quickly and efficiently." Buchanan explained

Repeatedly, each crew entered their vehicle and practiced bailing out. Results varied. Some vehicles, such as the T-44, had their hatches open simply by pushing on them. It made the whole 'bailing out' process pretty easy. For the VK, however, it was a different story. It's commander's hatch had a crank that needed to be turned for it to open.

"This really sucks...my arm is getting killed." Marielle complained.

A copious amount of grease was applied to make turning the crank easier but the VK remained the worst tank to bail out of.

This practice was timed. At first, the team had a minute to get out. Then 30 seconds. 10 seconds. A timer put a sense of urgency and everyone was eager to beat the clock. The moment one drill finished, another was initiated.

"How many times are we doing this, Miss Buchanan?" a girl asked.

"Till it becomes like breathing." was her reply.

Buchanan was terrified that what happened to her 20 years ago would happen to the team. The mere thought of anyone getting hurt made her stomach turn. This thought troubled her enough that, in the previous night, she had spent both her own money and free time making first aid kits for each crew. Every kit was absolutely filled with medical supplies that treated everything from cuts to burns. Such things weren't mandated by the American Tankery Association, it was entirely up to a teams' discretion to do so. The association, along with all other Tankery teams, had full faith that the protective carbon lining would protect crews to an extent that medical kits just weren't necessary. Though since Buchanan's day, the protection has improved significantly, the trauma remained. The memory of that day was still as fresh as ever, seared into mind as her body was.

It can never happen again. _Never._

Fire suppression was next. The extinguishers donated by the surplus store proved to be excellent teaching aids. Every crew member was taught how to handle a fire extinguisher. Practice fires were carefully lit and combated. The garage became a loud place as multiple extinguishers sounded. Though the reason for doing so was serious, it was impossible for the team not to have fun with it. Smiles and laughs were heard and at times become as loud as the extinguishers. Buchanan didn't mind this one bit. Good vibes were always welcome.

Yet there were only so many hours after school can you keep students before they had to be dismissed. Still, what hours they had were used effectively. Not a minute was wasted. Everything other than shooting or driving was done. That was for the weekend.

Saturday arrived. The sun had not yet risen and already there was a collection of students meandering outside the garage. Some were leaning against each ,other catching some last-minute sleep. A minority of students present were sipping on coffee.

"You actually drink that stuff?" a girl said to another.

"Yup. Tastes great." the drinker replied, doing her best to hide her distaste for the bitterness.

She wanted to be mature and what do mature people do? Drink coffee. That was her perception of adulthood.

Buchanan soon arrived and greeted the team.

'Good morning! Glad to see y'all here. I notice that some of you are still half-asleep. Don't worry. You will be wide awake soon enough. Let's mount up!"

The team went to their machines and got inside. In near unison, the engines of the vehicles were on and loud. Buchanan climbed on top of Valarie's T-44.

"I'll be hitching a ride if you don't mind. You're taking lead Val. Follow my directions as we head to practice."

Valarie nodded. At the drop of the instructor's hand, the T-44 advanced. The rest of the team followed suit. Slowly, the team moved out of the garage and onto a side road that led away from the school, and by extension, Barstow. They had to drive half an hour away from the town as to not bother the people still sleeping. They were about to get real loud. After some driving, the dirt road straightened out. Buchanan nudged Valerie.

"Gun it."

Eyes wide with excitement, Valarie radioed the crew.

"Driver, full throttle!"

Heather, with a huge grin, stomped on the accelerator. The engine roared as the tank gained speed. The vehicles behind them were forced picked up the pace. Try to, anyway. In the Jagdpanzer IV, Natalie, its commander, was a bit anxious.

"We can't uh...fall behind! Sophia! Speed up!"

"Oh speed up? Is that what we're doing? I'd thought we'd park...what do you think I'm doing? This shifter is stiff!"

Ray and his crew in the IS-3 were a little annoyed.

"This thing ain't a racer." remarked Cesar.

"Believe it or not, this is as fast as we can go." Jeremy said, looking at the speedometer.

At the rear, the Puma crew were frustrated too but for different reasons.

"Ugh! We can go faster than this!" exclaimed its commander, Aurora.

She opened the hatch and took a good look ahead of her. The tanks in front of here were having some difficulty matching speed with the T-44. This caused a gap to form. A chance to overtake.

"Riley, go off to the side and floor it! Get behind that..um..Cromwell! Yeah, that's what its called!"

The Puma accelerated as it went off to the side. It soon overtook the IS-3, ACIV, Stuart, and Jagdpanzer. It got behind the Cromwell with just enough room not to clip anyone. They still got criticism from the team.

"Are you asking to get totaled or something!?" yelled Mia over the radio.

The team radio was filled with chatter as everyone gave their ever-insightful opinions on the Puma's actions. Valarie could only listen.

"_Practice is off to a great start._" she thought to herself.

Buchanan watched the whole thing go down. She didn't appreciate all the bickering though she was glad to see that the Puma crew was getting a real feel for their vehicle. After more minutes of driving, and once the mood has calmed, Buchanan nudged Valaire once more.

"Take a right over there." she said, pointing toward the wilderness of the Mojave.

"Driver, right turn." commanded Valaire.

The team followed the T-44 off the dirt road and were now cross-country. All of their speed has slowed down by quite a bit.

"Order the team to line up, side by side." Buchanan said.

Valarie's first order to the team. It evoked strong feelings for her.

"All tanks, line up horizontally. Match speed with me."

The radio was filled with each of the commanders responding in the affirmative. They lined up, though they were clumsy about it. The line was crooked and the crews had difficulty matching speed with one another. Buchanan studied. Definitely room for improvement but she knew that the team will. There was something about these kids that told her everything will be okay.

A large hill appeared over the horizon. As soon as she saw it, Buchanan told Valaire to stop.

"All vehicles, halt." she ordered.

Buchanan brought out a laser rangefinder and aimed it at the hill.

"Alright, move gently now. Stop when I saw so."

At a snail's pace, Heather feathered the pedal, giving it the smallest amount of pressure needed to propel the tank.

"Stop!" yelled Buchanan.

"Perfect...1500 meters."

The rest of the team lined up as perfectly as they could with the T-44.

"Sooo, why are we here?" question Valaire.

Buchanan pointed toward the hill.

"Target practice." she said with a grand smile.

"Load 'em up."

"All tanks, prepare to fire." Valaire ordered over the radio.

Ashley, who was dozing off during the entire drive, was snapped awake. She grabbed a round from the nearest rack and slid it into the breech.

"Ready!" she yelled.

Valarie opened the comms one more.

"Target is the hill at our front. Acquire the range."

Emma put her face into the gunsight and worked out the distance. In the hectic past few weeks, she learned the method of how to range a target with the T-44's main armament. She was doing the math quickly in her head.

"Target acquired." she finally said.

All the other commanders responded via radio that they too had ranged the target. Buchanan turned toward Valarie and gave her a nod.

"Fire!" Valarie commanded.

Instantly, the atmosphere exploded as the Mojave was filled with the thunderous sound of simultaneous cannon fire. It lasted just a moment but its aftereffects lingered. Buchanan, with binoculars, viewed the distant hill. It was being hammered. That pleased her.

In the T-44, as in the other vehicles, the crew were in a daze. They all have seen a tank fire on videos and such but the real thing was a totally different sensation.

"That was...woah." Ashley remarked.

"I did that...me? I can't believe it. I shot a gun! A big one!" exclaimed Emma.

Valarie placed her hands on both the girls' shoulders.

"This is something we will never forget." she said proudly.

Heather chimed in her opinion on the matter.

"That was cool and all, but it might be a good idea to invest in some earplugs. The ringing...is..awful."

Being closer to the gun, she wasn't all that enthusiastic over it firing. A sentiment shared by all drivers. The girls in the turret were too overwhelmed with excitement to notice their own ears ringing. As they mellowed out, they heard it. Valarie spoke to Buchanan.

"Earplugs."

Initially, she had a surprised face. Then replied.

"...Yeah! Earplugs!"

Why didn't she think of that earlier?

The feeling of a large gun going off was something of pure amazement. Awe and wonder were felt throughout the team. Something that could be not adequately described, but had to be felt to really understand. The order was given to reload. For nearly all the team, it was a simple thing to do. Just grab a round and slid it in. For the IS-3, however, nothing was simple. They had to first load the projectile and then the propellant case to make the large 122mm cannon ready to fire. By design, it made the IS-3 the longest tank on the team to reload. Sure, with practice seconds can be shaved off but only by so much.

"Every shot has to count. A miss or something fucks us royally." Ray said

"I can only go so fast dude." Cesar responded

Ray sighed. A slow rate of fire was just something they all had to accept.

For the remaining Saturday and Sunday, the team practiced as if nothing else mattered. Hours at the range. Hours driving and practicing formations. They were becoming familiar with their machines and progress was being made. People were getting comfortable with their roles and getting in sync. Even Natalie, who was the girl who had confronted Ray and his friends for their 'audacity' of joining a female-oriented sport, was now tolerating their existence in the team. She had never seen any of the boys flirting with any other girls on the team. Any time they talked with other girls, the topic was exclusively about the sport. They were either playing the long con or were genuinely participating in good faith. These were the only two possibilities and Natalie couldn't decide which was true.

On Sunday evening, after an exhausted team left for home, an equally exhausted Buchanan was approached by Redwood.

"How did it go? Good I hope." he asked

"We got a real shot at this Martin. This team is something else."

Pleased, Redwood switched the topic to something that has been bugging him for some time now.

"Gabby, ya know we ain't the richest school in the world. What you are doing for us is invaluable...but we just don't have it in the budget to give you a salary."

Buchanan grinned softly.

"I'm not doing this for money, as if I need it anyway."

"Oh yeah...that payout." Redwood recalled.

"Besides, being an instructor is the best kind of therapy that I can ever ask for. I've been sleeping better."

The two stood next to each other silently looking toward the Mojave. Redwood asked another question.

"Have you ever...spoke with your crew since 1990?"

Buchanan shifted her gaze toward the ground.

"No. We all lost contact with each other. I got no idea what they are up to nowadays. Could've moved outta state, maybe even outta the country.

"What about the gunner of the tank that shot you? Ever talked with her?"

Buchanan gave Redwood a serious stare. It instantly told him that was not a good question to ask.

"Good night, Mr. Redwood."

She walked off, leaving him along, thinking about what he just said.

"Damn…" he muttered under his breath.

Two weeks have elapsed since the Mojave Rose Tankery Team has had its first proper practice. In this period of time, the team has essentially lived in their machines. When not in their vehicles, they were being drilled or memorizing some skill. In later practices, Buchanan let Valarie lead practices all on her own, to build up her leadership. She did well, much to Buchanan's pleasure. During the lunch period at school, it was a time for everyone to unwind and have a meal while they lounged around the courtyard. Not for the loaders. With permission from the P.E teachers, they spend their lunch period in the gym bulking up. They wanted to get their strength up to better handle tank rounds and put them in the breech faster. The team was also getting some attention from the student body. While walking to one of her classes, Valarie was stopped by some students.

"You in that Tankery team, right? You know, whenever you guys practice I can hear the distant thuds of your guns when I'm home. Kinda cool!" said one

"Do those things have AC? Must suck if they don't" another said.

"That garage you're all in...haunted right?" said a third.

All questions that were thrown at her were answered and all gratitude appreciated. Valarie didn't let it get to her head, though. Especially before their first match.

The school days ticked and before the team knew it, it was already Friday the 23rd. 24 hours remain. In Room 34, the meeting for that day was filled with nervous excitement. Buchanan stood at the front of the room along with Valaire. They both flanked a map of the battlefield where the match would take place.

"Tomorrow is the day we've been training like hell for. Our match with Bascom High School will be the first match of the national tournament. We've spent hours upon hours making our machines an extension of our bodies. Regardless of what happens tomorrow, I am incredibly proud of what everyone has accomplished. Now, Valarie will handle recapping our strategy."

Valaire cleared her throat.

"As soon as the match starts at noon tomorrow, we will drive straight to Hill 'X-Ray' in V-formation. We've practiced that maneuver a lot so we will get to the hill within half an hour barring any surprises. All vehicles, with the exception of _Nomad_ and _Mirage_, will position themselves on the top of that hill. Prior to reaching the hill, _Nomad _and _Mirage_ will break off and go perform recon and harass the enemy. Their objective is to lure them to our position where they will, hopefully, get bombarded."

Valarie finished and looked at the room.

"Any questions?"

One hand raised. It was the commander of the ACIV, Robin.

"Yeah, um, the plan looks and feels solid but I am worried that if we did enough. You get what I'm saying?"

Valarie gently nodded in understanding. Then answered.

"I feel the same way, sometimes. At the end of the day, what we got is what we got. Sure, we could spend all night working on the plan to get it 'perfect', or at least what we think a perfect plan is."

Robin figured where Valarie was going at and sat down.

"Your question reminded me of a quote." Valarie continued.

"No plan survives contact with the enemy. If we have to adapt, we will."

The meeting concluded.

At home, Valarie was laying on her bed staring at the ceiling. The match tomorrow made her real anxious. The team has given 110 percent but time was a major constraint. Had they done enough? Only time will tell. Her uniform was hanging on the door, all clean and ready for the big day. She took the playbook from her backpack and flipped through it. The plan for tomorrow was recently added. She looked at it for a few moments before putting it away. She'd seen it enough.

In her sleepwear, Valarie went to sleep. She wanted to wake early to take care of some last-minute things. Around midnight, as she and her mother were in deep sleep, a big truck has parked itself beside their home on a dirt patch. A man emerged and had a big stretch. He was tired. He went up to the front door and entered the house. Inside, he walked carefully on the floor as he made his way to Valarie's room. The door was opened. He gently shook Valarie.

"...? Wha-Dad!" she exclaimed, hugging.

"Why are you home so early?"

'I managed to get Thanksgiving week off. As soon as I got it, I made a beeline home. I wouldn't miss your match for the world."

"Oh dad, that's awesome!"

The pair maintained their hug for a few long moments.

"It's at noon, right?" he asked

"Yes, but I gotta be there by 10 A.M for prep."

"Well, alright. Let's get some sleep. We both need it.

Her dad left her room and went to bed, something he hasn't slept on for a good while. His surprise arrival was a delight as well as a morale booster. Her sleep that night was total bliss.

The alarm on her phone rang at 7:30. With no hesitation, Valarie sprung out of bed and showered. It was one of the quickest she had ever taken at just over 3 minutes. She dried herself thoroughly and got dressed in her uniform. In front of her mirror, she caught a glance at her reflection. How so much has changed. With the shirt, pants, boots, helmet, and binoculars dangling from her neck, it was as if it was another person. A better person. She left her room and went to the kitchen. Her mother was already there, preparing breakfast.

"Morning sweetheart. Today's the big day, huh? Big days call for big meals."

Bacon and eggs were cooking on the stove as her mother was finishing a waffle mix. It was then poured into a maker.

"Just a few more minutes, hun."

From behind, Valarie's father came and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her up.

"Hey commander! Is it all quiet on the western front?" he said teasingly

They both shared laughs and soon the whole family shared a meal.

Once heart breakfast was had, Valarie's family piled into the car and sped off to the match. During the drive, her parents were talking incessantly, her dad sharing stories he had while on the road. She was in the backseat, gazing out the window. Beside her was the playbook. She bought it but didn't look at it the whole drive. Taking another gander at the plan won't make much of a difference. They drove half an hour toward Nevada where they then exited off the freeway and onto side roads. The location of the match was a large swath of land between Fort Irwin and a place called Manix. As Valarie's family looked for a place to park, they all saw the festivities. A normally barren piece of desert, today, it was filled with spectators and tents as far as the eye can see. All the amenities needed to satisfy Tankery fans. Though it was late November, the Mojave sun is never kind. The temperature was in the high 80s.

Valarie was outside the car. Her dad lugged a cooler while her mother carried an umbrella.

"Look at my girl!" her dad exclaimed

"Even better than the pictures."

Valaire blushed.

"Aww man...quit it."

They walked to where the people were. Scattered about were large TVs so that people could see the match as it happens. Valarie turned toward her parents.

"I gotta go to the team now. The match is about to start soon."

She was hugged by both of them.

"Good luck sweetheart. Have fun and be safe, you hear?" her mother said.

"Thanks. I will."

Valarie walked to where her team was stationed. Her parents looked on at their daughter. Proud couldn't even begin to describe the emotions they shared with each other.

At one end of the area, after all the tents and trailers, were the tanks. Valarie met with the team who were idling about. At her tank was her crew. They greeted each other as warmly as the day.

"Hey Emma...is that them over there?" Valarie asked, pointing to a collection of tanks a good distance away.

"Yeah, it's Bascom."

"What do you make of 'em?"

"I dunno. I don't know about tanks enough to make them out this far away. Ashley tried to nonchalantly go to their tanks though."

"And?"

"Got caught by the other team and was told to go away. Ashley said they weren't nice about it."

"They're a bunch of bastards!" Ashley interjected.

Valaire and Emma smiled.

"Well, she's no Yukari, I'll tell you that." Valarie commented.

"Who?" Emma asked perplexed.

"Ah, it's not important."

Valarie has forgotten that not everyone has a near-encyclopedic knowledge of Ooarai's Girls Academy. She then brought her binoculars to bear to scope out the opposition.

"Hmm. Shermans and Crusaders, multiple variants."

"Oh, Ashley did overhear something useful." Emma recalled.

"Oh?"

"Something about 'heavy-hitters'. They aren't there."

Valarie signed sharply.

"Heavy-hitters? That could mean anything! Could be a whole platoon of T95s for all we know."

"Ah, T95s! I know what they are!" Emma proudly stated.

She was proud of herself that she was able to identify a vehicle just by its name. Valarie found this cute.

One hour remained until the match start.

The team was busy with last-minute preparations. Gas was checked and hydraulics tested. Redwood and Buchanan were helping where they could.

"Gabby...are you still mad with me?"

Buchanan kept walking and didn't turn to him.

"Not mad anymore. Just annoyed." was her response

Relieved to know that her mood has improved somewhat, Redwood busied himself with helping the team. He passed around ear protection that everyone, especially the drivers, appreciated. Not long after, they finished. Buchanan called the team for one last quick meeting.

"It's amazing to note how different things can change in a little less than a month. You are all tankers now, no doubt about that. I know that you will not only make me and Redwood proud but also for the whole school. Good luck!"

An announcement system clicked on. A loud voice echoed throughout the area.

"Tankers! Mount your vehicles and drive to the staging area! The match starts in 50 minutes!"

The team reflexively crewed their vehicles and turned on their engines, much to the delight of the nearby crowd. They drove to the starting area with the T-44 taking point. It was a desolate place and incredibly flat. A lone official was there waiting for them. She was looking at her watch and holding a starting pistol. It has taken them 45 minutes to get there.

"5 minutes!" the official yelled.

Valarie breathed in and out slowly. She looked at her crew who looked back at her reassuringly. Emma's hand found Valarie's and gripped it tightly.

"We're going to do great." she said gently.

Valarie appreciated that. There was a calm atmosphere within the T-44, interrupted by the radio.

"Valarie? Buchanan. My message will be short as instructors cannot contact their team once the match has started. Do you know the traditional way commanders start a Tankery match? Wait. What am I saying? Of course you do! You're obsessed with the sport."

Indeed she did.

As the radio clicked off, Valarie had a wide grin. The words she was soon to utter were ones she said in her mind a million times. Now, it was the real deal. The clock struck noon. The official aimed her pistol high in the sky and fired.

"Match start!" she yelled.

Valarie, clutching the radio, opened all channels and issued the first order of the day.

"Panzer Vor!"


	5. Mojave Rose v. Bascom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first match of the U.S National Tankery Tournament has begun. Will the expedited training of the Mojave Rose Tankery Team be enough to snag a victory? Find out in this thrilling installment of Dust Devils!

“Panzer Vor!”

At once, the Mojave Rose Tankery Team simultaneously drove forward. They assembled into a V-formation with the T-44 as the tip. Today’s match is a flag match and the Cromwell was selected to be the team’s flag tank. Its commander, Sage, was paranoid. If the team comes into contact with the enemy team, the first shot will certainly be toward them. Every crew member had their heads of a swivel. Yet the land was barren, the only thing moving was them.

“We’re coming up to Hill ‘X-Ray’. _Nomad_. _Mirage_. Go.” ordered Valarie.

The two speedsters of the team raced off. The commanders of the Stuart and Puma knew exactly where to go, a spot that has been carefully curated. More than ideal to spot targets and be an overall nuisance. Thanks to the incredible speeds of their machines, they reached their destination in no time. The commanders of each vehicle were scanning the environment.

“Hey..uh, _Nomad_? Got anything?”

“No. Nothing.”

Both of them remain vigilant. Minutes go by with only the idling of their engines prevent total silence. Then, some figures appeared just over some hills

“Wait...I got something..yeah! That’s them!” exclaimed Mia.

At a distance of 4000 meters, they have spotted the enemy team. They were driving at an angle where they were closing in but the direction they were heading was away from Hill “X-Ray”. Mia clutched the radio.

“_Oasis,_ we have visual. We’re gonna reel them in now.”

“Copy, we’re ready.”

Mia looked at her crew.

“Showtime,” she said with a big smile.

Without hesitation, Olivia quickly and effortlessly loaded an AP round. They waited for another minute for the opposition to drive closer to get more accurate shots. But they can’t get too close. In unison, both vehicles fired the first shots of the day. One shot sailed over one of the forward Crusaders while another landed just in front of a Sherman, showering the tank with a cloud of dust. The enemy team was aware of their presence and now all turned toward their harassers. More shells were flung down range but results varied. At this distance, the 37mm of the Stuart was totally ineffective. Any hits were just bouncing off the hulls of vehicles. It was made more difficult when the enemy team reformed and the more armored Shermans moved forward and protected the Crusaders.

“Hold on...hold on…” said the Puma’s gunner, Iris.

She had spotted a gap in the enemy’s formation. At the squeeze of the trigger, a 50mm round flew from the barrel and was firmly planted on an exposed Crusader, knocking it out.

“Yes! Yes! Got ‘em” she cheered.

“We got ourselves a little sniper, eh?” Aurora complimented.

A barrage of return fire racketed the area around them. No hits but that was too close for comfort.

“We’ve overstayed our welcome. Off to “X-Ray”!” Mia said.

The Stuart and Puma drove off to their next objective. All the while, their turrets were turned to their rear and were firing incessantly at the enemy. Lacking stabilizers or any other technology that is common on modern main battle tanks, their shots were all over the place. Their goal, however, was not to eliminate enemy tank, though taking that Crusader down was a welcome surprise. They are firing to harass and make the enemy follow them. So far, the plan was going perfectly.

So far.

While being pursued, Mia had her eyes fixated on the enemy team, watching as they try in vain to catch them. Neither Shermans or Crusaders can hope to even match the speed of a Stuart. And a Puma? Not worth even thinking about it. In their frustration, the enemy too has resorted to firing on the move and were missing horribly. In the back of her mind, Mia was concerned that a lucky shot would put them out of action...but none were coming close.

Until one did.

The ground on her right side suddenly exploded. A big explosion. Mia’s machine was showered with sand and other desert debris. Some of it was accidentally breathed in and she coughed.

“That was...different. It wasn’t like the others.” she thought to herself after catching her breath.

She looked back on the tanks chasing them. Another big explosion was heard near the Puma but she couldn’t tell if they came from the Shermans or the Crusaders...if it came from them at all.

“Where are those shots coming from?” she pondered

Valarie and the rest of the team were positioned on the top of Hill “X-Ray”. All sat silently, guns at the ready. The area that they were in seemed designed specifically to pull off an ambush. They were surrounded by larger hills that hide their vehicles from outside observation. At the foot of “X-Ray” was a patch that traveled horizontally. There were two exits at each end. The plan is that the Stuart and Puma would enter through one end and exit the other, followed by the enemy team where they would be hammered. The distant echoes of cannon fire got closer and closer. A signal of their imminent arrival.

“Alright guys, here they come.” Valaire said over the radio.

Moments later, the Stuart and Puma rapidly came into view.

“We’re here! They took the bait!” Aurora reported.

“Copy. All tanks, prepare to fire on my mark.”

In no time at all, the two vehicles have already left the area. Not long after their departure, the first of the enemy emerged. A trio of Shermans was driving on the path where they halted.

“Holy shit.” was all one of their commanders could say.

A frantic order to reverse was issued but it came too late.

“Fire!” Valarie yelled over the comms.

A volley of cannon fired descended down the hill onto the three Shermans. In less than one second, Bascom had lost three vehicles. The rest of their team, witnessing the carnage, stopped just before coming into view of Mojave Rose.

“So that’s where they are, eh?” remarked a commander of a Crusader.

She took out a map and scanned it quickly. She pointed on a particular spot.

“Yup.Right there.”

A voice came from the radio.

“We’re gonna circle around and cut off the other end of this patch. Make sure they don’t go anywhere.” it said.

“Roger. In the meantime, now’s a good time for a fire mission…”

A portion of Bascom’s tanks has driven around the larger hill in front of “X-Ray”. They positioned themselves on the other side, in a spot where they couldn’t be spotted. They don’t know it yet, but Mojave Rose was trapped. The spectators, however, did. Their precarious situation was laid bare on the TV screens.

“Aw geez…” Buchanan commented.

Her and Redwood sat on some bleachers within a large tent.

“It started well but now...man. Do they even know?”

Buchanan looked at him and back to the screen.

“This is where they adapt.” she said.

Valarie saw the now motionless Shermans, each flying white flags on their turrets.

“Good stuff but...they won’t come now. It’d be suicide.” she said.

“If they won’t come to us, what now?” Ashley asked.

“Well, we could-”

In her peripheral vision, she spotted five small black objects in the sky. They were climbing in altitude before making their dive to their position.

“Everyone, back up! Now!” she commanded.

The team reversed and did so in the nick of time. The spot where they all just sat in a moment ago was showered with explosions. As the dust settled, Valarie thought about what they all had experienced. Those shells didn’t come from the tanks below, they were still around the corner. That attack came from just beyond the hill in front of them. A tank couldn't fire rounds at such a trajectory. Then, that would mean it was...no? Would it be really? Valarie wrestled with her mind but knew there could be no other answer.

“They have artillery.” she deduced.

“Oh, you gotta be bullshitting me” Ashley complained

‘Aren’t artillery open-topped? I thought because of that, they couldn’t be used as they weren’t safe?” questioned Emma.

“Well, if they’re fully enclosed they can be used. The real question now is what kind they are.” Valarie answered

Another artillery strike fell upon them. All misses but they were zeroing in. Heather moaned. The concussions of the explosions annoyed her. Well, it annoyed everyone, but for Heather, she absolutely hated it. She gripped the controls tightly.

“I hope we shut those guns up real soon.” she said in an irritated voice.

The Stuart and Puma were the only vehicles of Mojave Rose who wasn’t unknowingly trapped. They never stopped driving when they left the area, they were out in the wilderness. They thought that by now a bunch of enemy tanks was smoldering in that valley but the absence of any cheers on the radio said otherwise. They stopped in a depression in the ground.

“Okay, so the plan hasn’t totally worked out.” Mia admitted.

“Let’s head back the team.” suggested Aurora.

They turned around and headed back toward Hill “X-Ray”. Yet, as they got closer, they stopped. With her binoculars, Mia spotted enemy tanks at the end of the path they had exited from. She now knew the gravity of the situation.

“Oh man!” she exclaimed

She grabbed her radio.

“_Oasis_! They are enemy tanks on both sides of the path! You’re all trapped!”

Upon receiving this news, Valarie skipped a breath. Trapped and under siege, there were in real danger, Bascom could just remain where they were and let their artillery pick them off from a safe distance. A breakout needed to happen. Fast.

“_Mirage_, Nomad. Are you in a good position to assist?”

“Roger, we’ll-Wait!”

Mia saw four Crusaders speeding towards them. They have been spotted.

“They saw us! We gotta go...sorry!”

Instantly, the two vehicles turned around and hit the gas. They drove fast with the group of Crusaders in hot pursuit.

“Damn.” muttered Valarie.

A breakout will be up to them. She contemplated for a few moments while artillery shells inched ever closer. At both ends of the path below them was the enemy but they have been weakened. One side has lost three tanks due to combat while the other lost four as they had split off. A plan was formulated.

“Emma, load a smoke shell. Everyone, once smoke is popped drive like hell to the other exit. _Juniper_, you’re taking point. Yucca will be shielded while driving, copy?”

All of the team’s commanders concurred with the plan.

“Alright fellas, now is our time to shine!” Ray told his crew.

The IS-3 moved forward a bit, in front of the other vehicles. The team all revved their engines in anticipation. In the T-44, a smoke round was slid into the breach.

“Ready!” Emma exclaimed.

After some careful moments of thought, Valarie issued the order.

“Fire.”

A smoke shell was ejected from the barrel and pierced the atmosphere as it sped down the hill. As it hit the ground, a large cloud was generated and grew thicker by the moment.

“Go! Go! Go!” Valarie commanded.

The IS-3 was the first down the hill with the right of the team right behind. Tons upon tons of steel were barrelling toward the exit. On the blinded slide, the tanks there backed up.

“They’re gonna burst out of that smoke any minute now...get ready!” one Sherman commander said.

All of their guns were trained on the cloud expecting Mojave Rose to rush out, but nothing.

“Eh? They coming out or not?”

On the other side, the tanks there saw the smoke.

“We’re gonna get them at the rear. It’s gonna be so great!”

A Soviet heavy tank then turned the corner and sped toward them.

“Oh. _NO_.”

The 122mm of the IS-33 blasted a Sherman, the force of its impact knocking it back a few feet. The rest of the team followed and were also firing on the move.

“Don’t stop for anything! We’re not broken out yet” Valarie radioed.

On the blinded side, they heard all the commotion and realized what was going on. They fired a volley into the smoke and drove on. They were slowed as they had to drive around their knocked out comrades. Mojave Rose has made significant progress. They had eliminated more enemy tanks.

“Yucca, move forward. Get out of the line of fire.”

The flag tank sped up of the pack, further from harm's way. The artillery was still on them and one round has found its mark. A shell landed right next to the ACIV. The ensuing explosion has snapped one of its tracks.

“Goddamnit..._Oasis_! This is Acacia! Something got our tracks!”

Valarie turned and looked at the ACIV. They were going in circles.

“Go go on! Nothing can be done now. We’ll stall them.”

Reluctantly, the rest of the team drove off. The ACIV turned itself toward the approaching enemy.

“Guess we’re the rearguard now. The first tank that crests that hill is getting it!” Robin yelled.

With nervous anticipation, Robin’s crew lied in wait. Then, a Crusader appeared as it drove over the hill. It was dispatched quickly.

“Hell yeah! Load another!”

The celebration in the vehicle was short-lived. Five Shermans crested the hill simultaneously. All had their guns trained on the crippled ACIV. Robin reclined in her seat.

“Well. Them’s the breaks.”

The Shermans all fired and all their shots were accurate. Once the smoke cleared, the ACIV sported the white flag and was motionless. Mojave Rose has broken out, though at the loss of a vehicle. Though casualty-wise, they held the lead, Valarie was hoping to win with no losses. Too ambitious, she thought. Perhaps unrealistic. She put those thoughts aside, she needed to focus.

Back at the tends, the spectators were reacting to the recent action.

“Thank the lord, they broke out.” Buchanan said, relieved.

“That smoke was a good move, caused some confusion for Bascom.” Redwood remarked.

“If they’re any good, they’ll only fall for that once.”

In the same tent but sitting on a different set on bleachers, Valarie’s parents were entranced by the TV. They held each other’s hands.

“My blood pressure is gonna be the end of me. Are these matches usually this tense?” Valarie’s dad commented.

Meanwhile, the Stuart and the Puma were still being chased. The Crusaders fired at them and they fired back. With all the zig-zagging though, accurate shots were impossible.

“I’m going to throw up if we keep doing this...I’m not even joking.” complained Oliva, she gripped her stomach.

“Just take deep breaths okay? The last thing we need is your lunch coming back up.” Mia responded

She then took another peek with her binoculars at the enemy and saw that they all had stopped. Already were they fading into the distance as they drove on.

“Well...alright! They must’ve run outta gas.” Aurora said.

Mia treated this whole thing with suspicion.

“They wouldn’t all run out of gas at the same time, would they?”

They drove for a few more minutes where they then drove over another small hill. To their shock, at the bottom, was a collection of vehicles. Mia counted eight vehicles total, five of which, had tall turrets. As they got closer they noticed that all of them were looking at their direction.

“They were waiting for us!” she exclaimed

She then saw one of the tall vehicles had a flag on them.

“There it is! The flag tank! Let’s go _Mirage_, let’s finish it right here, right now!”

The two picked up speed and raced toward the enemy. They endured a volley and fire and this time there were no misses. The Puma suffered a direct hit on its front and petered to a stop. The Stuart pressed on, now alone. Now very close, she got a good look at the enemy team. Five Bishop self-propelled guns were ahead, along with three M4A2(76)W Sherman guards. Mia radioed the team.

“We’ve got in contact with the enemy flag tank! It’s one of their artillery! We’re north of “X-Ray”. _Oasis_, _Mirage_ is down...but we’re going for it!”

Valarie hesitated before responding. What Mia said she was doing didn’t make her feel good at all.

“Pull back and shadow them. We’ll back you up.”

Mia peeked at her rear and saw the fast-approaching Crusaders. They have resumed the chase.

“I don’t have any other choices, other than forward.” she responded.

At her order, the Stuart accelerated. The flag tank was being shielded by the other Bishops. The Shermans assigned to protect them were firing volley after volley at the Stuart. The mobility of the tank made it so those shots were avoided but as they got closer it got harder to do and now, the Bishops opened up. The combined firepower of the enemy was frightful and only intensifies as the Stuart keep moving forward. Shells made terrifying whistles as they flew overhead and by the sides. Shots that landed near them kicked up sand which obscured their vision and make driving more difficult. The Stuart fired back but the only targets available were the Shermans and rounds just bounced off their hulls. Their charge, though valiant, was ultimately futile. A shot from a Sherman put them down, just 100 meters before the artillery. Silence fell upon the area soon after.

Mojave Rose has lost three vehicles. Valarie had led the remaining vehicles a good distance away from the enemy. They stopped in a dry riverbed for a brief` respite. She thought about what to do next. With what Nomad has reported, it was clear to everyone that the artillery was the new target. The question was whether to go straight for them or be more strategic about it. Valarie looked at the map and decided to for with a sort of hybrid.

“Okay, _Juniper_, _Yucca_, and _Mesquite_ will head west. Kick up as much dust as you can to attract attention and to create some concealment. _Arroyo_, you’re with me. We’re going hunting.”

With a new plan at hand, it was executed. Group ‘A’ was lead by the IS-3 and will serve as the distraction. Group ‘B’ hid among the dry vegetation that flanked the dry riverbed. Not long after Group ‘A’ has left, Bascom rolled through. They drove by Group ‘B’, totally oblivious to their existence. Once they were gone, the T-44 and the VK emerged from their hiding spots and drove toward the last reported position of the artillery. With any luck, they’ll still be there.

Group ‘A’ was driving erratically. They were doing anything and everything possible to create a dust cloud. They had to mask the fact that two tanks were missing. Consequently, this action made it impossible for them to watch their rear to check if Bascom was still following. This was made irrelevant the moment the ground around them was peppered with incoming shots. They were shooting blindly in the cloud.

“Alright, they’re on us.” Natalie said, pleased.

Sage remained as anxious as ever. She feared a lucky shot hitting them, and ending the match then and there. As rounds continued to fall around them, her breathing quickened. Her heartbeat raced and was sweating profusely. The Cromwell’s loader, Evelyn, handed her a few sticks of gum.

“T-Thanks? But why?” she inquired.

“The act of chewing tricks the brain that the situation that it is in can’t be that stressful, because why would you be eating otherwise? Helps me before tests.” Evelyn responded.

Sage quickly shoved the gun into her mouth and began chewing. It wasn’t long before she calmed and was reduced to a state of tranquility. Well, as tranquil a person can be while in a tank being fired at. Ray was examining the shots that were landing around the group. After some counting, he approximated that ten tanks were following them. He nodded in satisfaction.

“Looks like we got the whole enemy team chasin’ us. Except for their artillery of course. We gotta keep this up as long as we can to give _Oasis_ and _Arroyo_ as much time as they need.”

The T-44 and VK were on the prowl. Together, they arrived at the last reported position of the Bishops.

It was empty.

Even the Stuart and Puma were gone, already collected by the recovery vehicle. Marielle was upset.

“Goddamn it! We missed them! They could be anywhere by now.”

Valarie got off her tank and walked around. She inspected the markings on the sand. There were clear tire marks, obviously of the recovery vehicle. After a bit more walking about, she found five sets of distinct track marks. Using her compass, she figured out that whatever made these marks headed west, where Group ‘A’ was. She pointed in that direction.

“They went that way!” she yelled.

Valarie remounted her vehicle and the pair resumed the hunt. Self-propelled guns aren't the fastest things in the world. They’ll catch up.

With Group ‘B’ having success, Group ‘A” was beginning to run out of it. They were rapidly coming up on a dry lakebed. Aside from being devoid of water, obviously, it also had very little dust or sand on it. Nowhere near the amount needed to maintain a concealment cloud. The masquerade was about to be undone.

“Well, that’s not good at all!” Natalie commented.

Ray and Sage remained silent. Soon, very soon, those shots from the enemy were going to get real accurate. They need to improvise and Natalie had thought of something.

“Right before we hit the lakebed, we get in a single file line. _Yucca_, me, and _Juniper_. In that order.”

With no other alternatives thought of, the plan was enacted. As the lakebed closed in, Group ‘A’ formed in a single line. As they drove onto the new ground, their dust cloud dissipated and revealed them. One of the commanders of the lead Sherman immediately noticed that they were only three of them.

“That’s not all of them..! Our artillery! I want four tanks to go with me, the rest will maintain the chase!”

Now Bascon has split up, with half of the pursuing tanks breaking off to reinforce their artillery. The five remaining tanks were there to keep up the pressure on Group ‘A”. Only the IS-3 was in a position to fire back but accurate shots weren’t feasible. Nonetheless, the barrel of a 122mm cannon looking back at the enemy was enough to unnerve them. Their five pursues were swerving wildly to avoid getting pummeled.

“_Oasis_, five enemy tanks are heading their way. Keep an eye out.” Ray informed

With time against them, Group ‘B’ picked up the pace. Disregarding the tactic of stealthily hunting their target, their engines whined as they accelerated and followed the tracks. Thanks to their increased speed, they caught up with Bascom’s artillery but they have been warned in advance that they were being hunted. They prepared by forming a circle, guns pointed in all directions. The three Sherman guards remained in front of the flag tank, preventing a shot at it. Now, however, these Shermans were against vehicles that were their contemporary, if not better.

“Alright _Arroyo_, pick your shots. Those Shermans got to go before we can get a chance at their artillery.”

The T-44 and VK took up firing positions, with only their turrets exposed to the enemy. Despite getting a warning, Bascom was still at a disadvantage, being caught in an open area. With reinforcements on the way, though, the balance of power can easily shift back to them. The first volleys were exchanged and one of the Shermans was eliminated. The VK had a shell ricochet off the side of its turret, producing an ear-piercing sound. The Bishops were not idle. They let loose a barrage at the two hunters. No hits but it was causing one person considerable grief. Heather grated her teeth as they weathered another artillery strike. She took deep breaths to calm herself but it wasn’t working. Her frustration boiled over into anger. She rocked back and forth in her seat, gripping the controls even tighter.

Group ‘A’ found themselves in a precarious situation more than they had before. Particularly for the IS-3. The continuous firing of its main gun has done a number of their ammunition stock. That is, they depleted it.

“Dude...we’re outta shells! The racks are empty!” Cesar exclaimed.

Ray looked at his crew. The nonstop firing has caused the fighting compartment to be uncomfortably hot. They were all sweating and all had undone their shirts in a bid to cool themselves. He wiped some sweat off his forehead

“We’re a wall now and we’re gonna be the best damn wall out there. Brace for impact.”

The crew held on and prepared to endure being hit but nothing came. Moreover, the firing seemed to have ceased completely. Ray was perplexed. He looked at the rear and saw something incredible. The five tanks that were chasing them have stopped and turned around.

“Hell yeah...oh wait.”

Ray grabbed the radio.

“_Oasis_, they stopped chasing us! The entire enemy team is heading your way!”

Bascom’s situation has gotten desperate. Their flag tank was in great jeopardy. So much so that an order was given that all tanks race toward the artillery in a gamble to save them. Valarie was keenly aware that time was slipping by quickly. At any moment would the first wave of reinforcements appear, followed by the second. Another of the guard Shermans was knocked out, leaving one remaining. The Bishops unleashed a volley and were now reloading.

It was now or never.

“Rush the last Sherman!” ordered Valarie.

Instantly, the VK and T-44 emerged from their firing positions and made a beeline for the last Sherman. This sudden action has surprised the Sherman commander. The view of two heavy machines barrelling towards was terrifying. She couldn’t decide which target to go for. This hesitation would prove to be fatal. The VK planted a shell and eliminated them from the match.

“Move erratically! Be unpredictable! That’ll mess up the artillery aiming!” Valarie said

The VK and T-44 moved side to side and braked abrupted before accelerating again. The Bishops formed a wedge with the flag tank at its rear. Their guns moved all over the place as they desperately tried to train their guns on the tanks. Artillery just wasn’t intended for intense close combat. Any shots made missed wildly. Either too far or too short. In the brief lull when they were reloading, two Bishops were knocked out. The pair approached the remaining three but they then sighted the first group of enemy reinforcements.

“God! They’re coming in fast! We gotta end it now!” Marseille said frantically.

The remaining Bishops were out of formation. They had inadvertently separated as a result of the chaos. A shot from the VK neutralized another. Emma, face glued to the gunsight, had the flag tank in her crosshairs.

“Target acquired.

“Fire!”

An 85mm shell exploded from the barrel and flew in the air towards its target. Yet, mere moments before it would’ve hit, the other Bishop had driven in front of the flag tank and took the shot. Whether or not it was an intentional sacrifice, Valarie didn’t know or care.

“Another shell!”

Out of her viewport, the enemy was drawing nearer. Already they were making shots.

_“It’s too late._” a voice in her head said.

Suddenly, the T-44 lurched forward and its engine revved and whined. It took a wide berth around the wrecked Bishops turned its front toward the flag tank.

“What are you doing Heather!?” Valarie demanded.

She didn’t respond. Heater stomped on the accelerator and the T-44 reached top speed. Dumbfounded over what their driver was doing, the girls in the turret held on for dear life. Heather could only see red.

“Fuck. You.” she muttered.

The T-44 rammed in the Bishop, the force of the tremendous impact enough to knock the vehicle on its side. Heather didn’t relent. Foot still firmly on the gas pedal, the T-44 pushed the Bishop forward, the scraping of metal on metal made a horrible sound that made the girls wince but Heather kept going. The Bishop was pushed away from its comrades and forced down a hill. It rested on the bottom. The side that was rammed was mangled, one its tracks were snapped, and on its roof, was a white flag.

Back at the tents, the announcement system clicked on.

“Mojave Rose High School has won the match! What an ending!”

The tent where Buchanan and Redwood were in erupted into cheers. Neither believed what they have witnessed.

“A win? My glasses haven’t fogged up, have they? That screen says we won right?”

“Martin...that’s the real dead. My god...we did it.”

Valarie’s parents stood up from where they were sitting and were beyond excited.

“That’s our girl! Right There! On that screen...wow!” her mother exclaimed

They departed the tent and walked to where the tanks once parked before the match started. They will patiently wait for their daughter’s triumphant return. Back in the T-44, the crew was stunned but for a different reason. The girls in the turret were staring at Heather. That emotion from her, that anger, they have never seen that from her. Valarie was the most shocked of all. Admittedly, she hasn’t know Heather for years, they meet in August when the semester started. In all the time that she knew her, Heather was this painfully shy and reserved person. What happened today showed them all that Heather can become a totally different person.

“You okay...Heather?” Ashley asked meekly.

She cracked her knuckles and took a deep breath.

“Yep.” she replied calmly.

“Did we win?”

Over the radio, the other commanders celebrated. All of them issued congratulations toward the T-44.

“That’s kick-ass! Nicely done!”

“Dude! That’s so cool!”

“Outstanding...man I feel like I’m gonna puke outta joy.”

The girls left their position and stood on their machine. The silence that fell upon the area produced all sorts of feelings. Emma nudged Valarie.

“I bet most matches don’t end in a crash? Ha Ha!”

The spirit of victory entered Valarie and was now smiling.

“All of our efforts...all those hours. Paid. off.” she said.

When the remaining tanks of Mojave Rose returned to the tents, they were met with a crowd. Fellow students, family, friends, and general spectators cheered their victory. The crews of the knocked-out tanks ran up to their fellow tankers and gave them huge hugs. A photographer navigated his way through the crowd and found his way to the team. He called them to attention.

“Okay girls...and boys! Big smiles and look right at the camera!”

The team quickly posed for the photo. Then there was a flash.

“Thanks guys! Congrats!”

Buchanan walked up to the photographer and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, you a reported or something?

“Sure am. Name’s Garry Gonzalez for the Barstow Sun, covering today’s match. That sure was something else. Got any connection to the team?”

Buchanan put on a beaming smile.

“I’m their instructor, actually.”

“Cool! Mind doing a quick interview?”

The pair went off to find a more quiet place to do their business. Meanwhile, Redwood was with the team doing some coordinating.

“Alright, all commanders need to go to the stage for the ceremony. Quickly! It will start soon!”

At the center of all the tents and trailers, was a large stage and surrounding it was a large crowd. The commanders of Mojave Rose walked upon the stage amidst applause. An official walked on and grabbed a microphone.

“Good evening folks! What a match, eh? Only in Tankery can a match turn into a demo derby!”

Her words garnered some laughs among the crowd. Another official joined her on the stage, carrying a trophy.

“The American Tankery Association proudly bestows this trophy to Mojave Rose High School! That’s real gold, folks! Congratulations, Tankers! This day belongs to you!”

The official with the trophy handed it to Valarie. In her hands, it was a dense object. She read the inscription.

_U.S National Tournament Victor_

_Round I_

_November 24th, 2012._

Valarie held the trophy above her head, which sparked more cheers from the crowd. A tear rolled down her cheek. Among the audience, was her parents. They too were crying happy tears, her mother was taking hundreds of photos. The commanders left the stage and reunited with the team. They all admired the trophy. It was passed around so that everyone had a chance to hold it. They all felt over the moon, some couldn’t quite believe that what they were experiencing was real. Finally, the trophy has reached Redwood.

“This’ll fit right at home at the school’s trophy case, where all of the student body can see. Team...you’ve done it! I am beyond proud!”

Buchanan joined them after concluding her quick interview. When the team saw her, they unleashed a cheer. The team showered her with thanks and appreciation. After everything and all the times she had kept her emotions in check, Buchanan was finally overwhelmed. She didn’t stop herself from crying.

“Oh you kids…” she said amid sniffles.

Buchanan composed herself.

“Less than a month ago everyone here put in sweat and tears to get to where we are now. Even being thrust into match far sooner than we thought we were ready couldn’t stop us.”

She paused and wiped the tears off her cheek.

“Team, I believe we conquered the biggest obstacle in the whole tournament. Yeah yeah, it's too early to say that but c’mon. When you fight against time and win, there is no greater enemy. I am...honored to be your instructor.

Once she had finished her little speech, she was immediately surrounded by the team and hugged. This drove her to tears once more. Once the mood had stabilized, Redwood just had wanted to say one more thing before the team was dismissed.

“Dust Devils, you all deserve some R&R. Have a safe drive home and enjoy your Thanksgiving break! You definitely deserve it!

The team left the tent and went to their families. It was 6:30 in the evening and a wave of exhaustion has hit them all. Valarie has said her goodbyes and went off to find her parents. She would soon find out that someone else was looking for her too.

“Hey! Dust Devil!”

Valarie looked around and realized the voice was directed at her.

“Me? Oh, hi!” she greeted.

The girl who called her reached out a hand and the pair shared a handshake.

“My name is Isabella, captain of the Bascom Tankery Team.”

“Oh wow! Glad to finally meet you.” Valarie responded enthusiastically.

“Likewise. That was a heck of a match. A loss hurts, obviously, but that was super fun. Though, I don’t think that ram at the end was totally necessary.” Isabella said half-jokingly.

Valarie was red in the face and scratched the back of her head.

“Yeah, that’s on our driver. She didn’t like those barrages. Hated it...actually.”

“That’s psychological warfare, girl. Mess with the mind of your opponent and get them to do something stupid. And, if you can knock them out while doing it? That’s the icing on the cake. Yeah...it backfired for us today but its a valid strategy.”

Valarie soaked in what Isabella was saying.

“How’s the crew of the Bishop? They aren’t hurt, are they?” Valarie asked

“Nah. They’re angry, sure, but they’ll cool off. Heck, I already saw them eating hot dogs so they’re already feeling better.

Valarie was then handed a number.

“Let’s keep in contact, yeah? No reason to keep being strangers.”

The number was put in her pocket.

“Thanks. I’ll be sure to do that.

The two girls shook hands again and departed. Before they got too far, however, Isabella turned.

“Valarie! We’ll be watching you. Keep putting on good shows, will ya?”

Valarie smiled and nodded. They walked off. The area was gradually becoming emptier as people were heading for their homes. It wasn’t long before Valarie found her parents. She ran up to them and jumped in the arms, squealing with glee.

“Goddamn sweetheart, that was awesome!” her dad said

“Honey, you had us on the edge of our seats.” her mother added.

In the warm embrace of her parents, Valarie shed some more tears. Her father gently caressed the top of her head.

“Aw baby. Let’s head home. We got a special Thanksgiving to look forward too.”

The Woodlin family left the match area. The drive back home was a soothing experience. The radio was playing classic rock music on low volume. Valarie was looking at all the sights zoom by as they drive on the I-15. When they returned home, her parents found her fast asleep. Her father carried her inside and laid her gently in her bed. Both parents looked at their daughter, hearts filled with pride. They closed the door of her room softly.

** _ELSEWHERE…_ **

_Molly Pitcher Girls’ Private Academy_

_Boston, Massachusetts_

_Same Day_

Night has fallen in Boston. It was raining with only intermittent breaks. Despite the weather or the hour, the city was as alive as ever. Penelope Hathaway was in her dorm. The lamp on her desk was the only source of light in the room. She was busy, not with classwork, but on a secret project. Hathaway was the captain of the academy’s Tankery team. Molly Pitcher was the most prestigious private school in all of the Commonwealth. Their quality of education was superb and they had a Tankery team to match. Earlier that day, they had won their first match of the National tournament. Upon its conclusion, Penelope headed back to her dorm and was finalizing her work. After a few more keystrokes of her computer, she was done. She turned it off and rested in her seat. She has been at that nonstop for hours. There was then a knock on her door.

“Come in.” she said, not even looking at the door.

A girl entered. It was the co-captain of the team and her best friend, Caroline Blackwell.

“Where did you run off to after the match?” she inquired.

Penelope adjusted her glasses.

“Here. I had some pressing business to attend to. How was the celebration?”

“It was great, the team cleaned up that restaurant. Not a morsel of food left.”

Penelope smiled.

“Ah, I regret not being apart of that. Well, only a little. I wanted to get this thing done.”

Caroline then remembered stuffed in her back pocket.

“Oh! I wanted to show you this.”

She unfolded the magazine and showed Penelope and advert. It showed a tank in the center with ‘CONTEST!’ plastered all over.

“Listen to this! Patton Heavy Duty Engineering is holding a contest. A race to be exact. The fastest tank to complete their circuit wins a Panther II. It has the Schmalturm turret, an 88mm gun, and even night vision equipment! This vehicle would be a great addition to the team. I think we should enter.”

Penelope leaned back in her chair and scratched her chin.

“It would be great...but no.”

“No?! Penelope, you know Patton makes excellent tanks! We even bought some from them! That Panther II has been approved by the ATA to be used in matches Why not give the contest a shot?”

Penelope calmly opened her backpack and withdrew a blueprint.

“My dear Caroline, I know Patton is the best of the best when one wants tanks. That’s why we are getting another tank from them.”

“We are?”

Penelope shook the blueprint in her hand.

“Remember that project I hinted towards?”

Caroline’s eyes widened.

“That’s it? Oh my…”

Penelope laid out the blueprint on her desk. Caroline let out a gasp.

‘“Is that…”

“Yes ma’am. This too was approved by the ATA.”

“When will it be ready?”

“I’ve been in contact with some Patton engineers. They say it will be a challenge to get the specifications right. It won’t be ready until a few weeks before the National finals. We’ll get a concrete date as time goes on.”

Caroline smiled and crossed her arms in satisfaction.

“Impressive. That gives us some time to train a crew.”

“Indeed...by the way, don’t inform the team about this. I want them to be surprised when the thing arrives.”

Caroline mimicked her lips being sealed.

“Whoever we’re facing in the finals are doomed.”

Penelope stood up and placed her hand on Caroline’s shoulder.

“That’s bold of you to assume we’ll make it to the finals. That’s why you're the co-captain.”

The girls bid farewell. Now alone, Penelope took one more glance at the blueprint. She sported a wicked smile.

“God save the team who faces against us.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mojave Rose team enjoys a well deserved Thanksgiving break but their next match is fast approaching up north in Klamath National Forest. As the team prepares for a fight in the forest, Valarie learns more than she would like regarding a teammate. All the while, the weather appears to be no one's friend. Surely, with all this thunder and lightning, no advantage can be yielded?

_November 26th, 2012_

At around 9:00 AM, Buchanan awoke from a restful slumber. The day was dismal with cloudy weather, to a point where not a whole lot of light entered her apartment. Yet her mood was the total opposite. The events of Saturday has uplifted her spirits like no other. She recalls how just a year ago she would scarcely get out of bed until 1:00 PM and even when she did she wouldn't leave her apartment and not see a single soul.

The person she was a year ago wasn't here today. Yet, nor was the person she wanted to be.

That was a work in progress.

Into the shower she went and then put on some fresh clothes. Coffee was brewed and a light breakfast was prepared of buttered toast. She sat at her computer desk and got onto the internet. She was searching for a particular news article. Soon enough, she found it

Mojave Rose wins the first match of nationals; advances to next round

Reading the title pleased her, the article itself was even better.

"The girls, and boys mind you, of Mojave Rose High School had a whole lot of things against them. Mainly, it was time. Their instructor, Gabrielle Buchanan, said that the team was blindsided by the schedule change. Months of anticipated training reduced to mere weeks.

Buchanan sipped on her coffee and admired the attached photos. She read on.

"Nonetheless, they persisted and seized the day. Barstow's own Tankery team has the tenacity to win. But they are not totally out of the woods yet. The time between now and their next match is short. In just a few weeks, Mojave Rose will be up in Northern California and reports that the team is near insolvent. She has asked the local community to pitch in where they can."

As Buchanan read on, she read a paragraph that caused her to do a double-take.

"As such, the Barstow Sun is pleased to announce its sponsorship of the Mojave Rose Tankery Team. We encourage other businesses with the means to do the same. Contact information is listed below."

She got off the article immediately and went to her email. Within were four new messages with the word 'SPONSOR' in the header. Her morning was going to be busy. She replied to emails, made calls, and got into contact with the right people. By noon was she done. Though she had one more call to make.

"Hello Martin. How is this fine Monday treating you?"

"Not too bad. Just at my desk. You?"

"Oh just accepting sponsors and settling our money problems.

"That's co-...pardon?"

"The team is getting a nice, fat cash injection. An article about our match was published. Generated some good buzz."

Redwood was astounded.

"Gabby, that's fantastic!"

"Mmmhmm. As part of this deal, we'll need to sew on sponsor patches. Remind the team to leave their uniforms so we can take care of that."  
"Of course."

The call went silent for a few awkward moments.

"So...uh...Martin, to shift gears, what's your plan for Thanksgiving?"

"I've got this turkey recipe that I've been aching to try."

"Cool. Cool. Who are you spending the holiday with?"

"Oh, it's just me."

Buchanan was taken aback by this response.

"...no one? Really? Not even family?"

"I used to spend it with my mom but after she won it big at some Vegas casino, she moved to Florida, as all older folk tends to do."

"I see…"

Another brief silence.

"Martin...mind if I come over for Thanksgiving? I can bring...uh...yams?"

"I'd like that."

"Great. See you then."

The call ended and Buchanan plopped onto her bed.

"Why did you say 'yams'?" she thought to herself.

It was an impulse promise, though thankfully she had a few days to either make or get some yam-related food. After the call, Buchanan felt a type of excitement she hadn't felt in years. The same type of excitement one would feel when they have a date coming up. But her plans with Redwood wasn't a date, it was just two friends spending the holiday together. Right?

Elsewhere in town, there was a group of people taking a much-needed break. The Mojave Rose Tankery team was going to spend every second of their Thanksgiving vacation in leisure. For Valarie, she was in her room enjoying the comfort of her bed. Her time was spent browsing the internet along with making and responding to texts. All the while, she had this consistent thought on her mind. Heather's outburst. She never shared this with anyone but the Heather than rammed and batted that Bishop into submission was a person that frightened her a little. With Bascom, things turned out alright, but in the future, would her anger jeopardize the crew and get them knocked out? Or even lose a match altogether? This thing needs to be investigated further when school resumes.

Thanksgiving arrived on the last Thursday of the month, the 29th. On that day, the town has ground to a halt. The roads were near vacant with only the occasional vehicle treading the asphalt. The weather was mild, it was a desert after all. Some clouds were in the sky but there would be no precipitation today. Overall, great holiday weather. People were either in their homes socializing before the big meal or they had left town to visit friends of families far away. With a little over a quarter of the population of Barstow living below the federal poverty level, the grandiose Thanksgiving meal that is shown ad nauseum on advertisements wasn't attainable. Those without the means had to work hard and be creative to pull off a worthy Thanksgiving meal. Valarie's family was above the poverty line but only because both of her parents had full-time jobs. If one of them lost it, it would certainly force them into poverty. This was true for the majority of the Tankery team. Being a bad day away from poverty was something that they either were oblivious too or flat out ignored.

It was 3:00 PM and the Woodlin household was busy. Both of Valarie's parents were in the middle of preparing the meal for the day. There were the classic turkey and associated sides. At their home, it wasn't just the three of them. A few family and friends have come over for the holiday. Among them was Valarie's cousin, David. He was one of her favorites. He had this mature aura that she emulated. Or at least tried to. David and his mom, which would make her Valarie's aunt, once lived in Barstow until they moved. Her aunt was one of the few people in the family to have some form of higher education, a Master's degree. She used to work at a nearby aerospace company before a new job opportunity moved her, and dragged David, to Colorado. The fact that Valarie's aunt had a Master's degree ratcheted up her superiority to eleven. Consequently, her relationship with her mother deteriorated. At every opportunity, her mother was derided for her career as a welder.

"Still putting metal together? Anyone can do that grunt work, Kathy. When will you get a more respectable job?" Valarie recalled a phone conversation.

Any accomplishment of her mother was belittled and she just had to brag about hers instead.

"Employee of the year? Pfft. When the competition is filled with backwater hicks, it's no real feat. Do you know what's impressive? Getting your paper published in an esteemed science journal. Call me when that happens."

Since their move to Colorado, her aunt and mother haven't spoken. So, when Valarie saw David arrived alone, she was relieved. This Thanksgiving will be tension-free, thankfully.

"Davey boy! No Aunt Marge? Shame... a real shame." she said sarcastically

David put on a small smile.

"Yeah, she's not in a mood for travel."

"Oh I bet, being a scientist and all. Gotta look at all those microscopes...and such."

David put his hand on her shoulder.

"Val." he began.

"You don't even know the half of it."

The pair went off and to a more quiet area. David then regaled a story that was completely and utterly fantastical but he insisted that every bit of it was true. Valarie, with a face of disbelief, stood up.

"Not a thing you just told me is true. It can't be…" she finally said.

"I'd never lie to you Val. When I babysat you years ago, I had many many chances of filling your head with bullshit. But I didn't. Partly because I was scared of what your mom would do with me if she found out, and also because that's just not who I am."

Valarie paced around the dirt for a few steps.

"What I found the hardest to believe is that Aunt Marge wouldn't immediately brag to everyone the moment she was pregnant. You know how she is."

"She planned to show off the child after the birth and parade it around. As you now know...that won't be happening.

"Geez."

Valarie thought about what she just heard. In all the years that she has known him, he has never given any indication not to be trusted. What he said, she believed, regardless of how far-fetched she viewed it.

"Hey, don't tell your parents about this. Let's keep it between us, yeah? I really don't want to face my mom is this story becomes mainstream.

Valarie nodded, then yell came from the house.

"Dinners' ready! Come in you two!"

Now reminded of their hunger, the pair went inside. Good food awaited them.

In another part of town, later on in the day, a car has pulled up in front of a house. The driver turned off the engine yet did not immediately exit the vehicle. After a few deep breaths, they got out. Buchanan, with a platter of food in hand, walked up to the door and rang the bell. Moments later, it opened and there was Redwood, wearing an apron.

"Hello Gabby, I was just tending to the turkey. Watcha got there?"

"Mashed yams. Heh, hope they're alright. "

"Looks great. Come in."

Redwood lead Buchanan through his home to the backyard. Outside, there was a large fryer. It was bubbling loudly.

"You...deep-frying the bird?

"Yep. Has a cajun spice rub. Something new."

Redwood then walked to a cooler and handed Buchanan a cold drink.

"I hope you know your limit." he said as he cracked open a can for himself.

They drank and chatted as the turkey finished frying. Anything and everything was talked about. Invariably, the topic of Tankery was brought up.

"How many matches between now and the national finals?" he asked

"Excluding Bascom? Six."

"Six, eh? When and where is the next one?"

"December 15th, up north in Klamath National Forest."

"That's near Oregon! We're gonna have to charter a bus to make the trip."

"Thankfully, we have the cash for that now."

Conservation between the too faded. They sipped on their drinks and they silently watched the fryer. Eventually, Redwood approached it and took a peek. He then put on some oven mitts.

"Ah, it's ready."

With care, Redwood took out the turkey and placed it on a prepared tray. He carried it inside with Buchanan in tow. It was placed on the kitchen table where he then withdrew a knife. A piece of the thigh was sliced off and sampled. When he took the first bite, it produced a satisfying crunch and its flavor was sublime.

"Man, that's real good. Try a piece."

He cut another piece of turkey and handed it to Buchanan. When she ate it, her face lit up.

"Woah...Martin...this is great."

Redwood blushed slightly.

"Thanks...I always enjoyed cooking even if it was for me most of the time. Hey, let's have those yams."

They grabbed plates and filled them with food. They then plopped themselves down on the living room couch and watched some TV while they ate. The talking resumed and they both continued drinking. As a result, conservation got rather personal.

"Tell me Martin, why haven't you gotten married?"

Redwood got all flustered.

"Well...I...um. Dang. I've dated occasionally but because of my work schedule, they never last."

"Martin, I misspoke. You are married. To the school. Anything that's related to that place, you're involved. Just work, work, work, and more work. And now you're overseeing the Tankery club. Do you have any free time?"

"I'm having it right now."

"Yeah?" Are you telling me that all the paperwork I see scattered around your home is something you do for fun? Admit it, you were working right up till I got here."

Redwood exhaled.

"...yeah."

Buchanan placed her plate on the table in front of them.

"Martin, I love that you are genuinely passionate about the success of Mojave Rose. This town isn't the most wealthy in the world so these kids are very lucky to have a man who wants them to thrive. But you need to take care of yourself. Have days where no work is done and you just do something relaxing and focus on you."

Redwood listened closely to what she was saying. He was a workaholic. He has never taken vacation days except for when the holidays come. Even then, he worked through them. A day of relaxation would be a pleasant change of pace. Hell, a day of him doing nothing would do wonders.

"Alright Gabby, what about you? I don't see a ring on your finger.

She sighed.

"Who'd want me? A woman who occasionally wakes up in the night screaming that they're burning? A woman with a coarse cough that will never go away? Whenever I tell men my story, they scatter. One of them told me, right in my face, that I'm 'damaged goods'."

Buchanan finished her drink and immediately opened another.

"And this is well before any relationship progressed to the more 'intimate' stage. If they saw my burn marks, they'd dump me like I was out of fashion."

She drank more. The can that she had just opened was already gone. She reached for another but Redwood closed the cooler.

"I think you had enough."

She didn't attempt to argue. Buchanan sank into the sofa.

"You said that being an instructor was the 'best therapy you can ask for'. It is doing good for, yeah?"

"It is but I am not completely healed and being an instructor for 20 years won't do that. I need closure but I don't know how to get that."

The two sat in silence. Buchanan was breathing deeply as she fought back tears. She then spoke,

"I ruined our Thanksgiving. I'm so...sorry Martin."

"No Gabby, don't be sorry. You haven't ruined a thing. I enjoy our time together, even if what we talk about aren't the most uplifting things."

Buchanan smiled softly. She then glanced at her phone. It was 10:50 PM.

"Wow, it's nearly 11:00. Well, I should be leaving, all the same. Thank you for the meal Martin."

She stood up from the sofa but was disoriented. She sat back down.

"I'm...in no condition to drive."

"You're more than welcome to stay the night and sleep off the alcohol."

"Martin...thanks. I'll just crash on this couch here.

"Oh no you won't. I got a spare bedroom. You will sleep on a proper bed."

Redwood led her to the bedroom. The bed was all neat and orderly.

"Don't you think you gotta leave the moment the sun rises. Sleep as long as you need."

"Thank you."

"A pleasure. Good night."

The door was gently closed. Buchanan took off some layers of clothing to get more comfortable. She was pleasantly surprised to find how soft the bed was. In less than a minute, she had fallen asleep.

The Thanksgiving break was a welcome respite for all yet it was only for a week. As December 3rd rolled in, it was back to business. Though the next match in the tournament was next Saturday, the team was nowhere near anxious as they were last time. The schedule remained the same and practice was still demanding but now everyone has adjusted to their new routines. As a result of the previous match, that day's meeting was dedicated to maintenance. All of the team's vehicles were being inspected and anything that was amiss was addressed. For the ACIV, Puma, and Stuart, they had to be repaired. As each of the crew attended to their machines, Valarie, Emma, and Ashley had a private talk. Heather was in the driver's position of the T-44 checking on all the gauges and the gear shifter.

"Has any of you spoken with Heather since the match?" questioned Emma

"A text here and there. No actual conservation." Valarie replied.

"I don't have her number." Ashley admitted.

"Can we all agree that her outburst wasn't...what's a good word...typical?"

The other two girls nodded.

"There's got to be something more to this but how do we learn more? Asking her directly, I think, is a bad move."

As the girls had their little meeting, Buchanan called the entire team to the Puma.

"How to repair a vehicle after it was eliminated is something that you all know how to do. Watch closely now…"

While the team was being lectured, Ashley absentmindedly looked around the garage. Her gaze rested upon the garage office. Empty. An idea spawned. She calmly walked toward Valarie and nudged her.

"Hey...follow me. Act cool, alright?"

"Why?"

"Just follow."

Ashley led Valarie stealthily away from the team, attracting no attention. As Ashley approached the office door, Valarie grew worried.

"What are you doing? You can't do that."

"I thought you were cool, Valarie? We're not gonna do something...too bad. Come on."

After standing for a moment, Valarie decided to go along. The pair entered the office. Ashley sat at the computer with Valarie standing just behind.

"So what's the plan here? Better be worth detention."

"If anything is gonna tell us what's up with Heather, it'll be from the school's system."

Ashley navigated the computer with expertise. At no point did she hesitate. She knew all the right places to click. It was obvious to Valarie that Heather has done something like this before.

"This isn't your first time doing this, hmm?" she inquired.

"I cannot confirm nor deny that I once snuck back into class after school and changed my grade."

Valarie was stunned.

"Hey, Mr. Jackson should've put a password on his computer."

After a bit more clicking, the screen showed a list of all the students that were currently attending Mojave Rose.

"I need her last name."

"Oh...Sloan."

With a few more keystrokes, Ashley inputted the following in the search bar.

_Sloan, Heather._

A result.

"That's our girl. Let's see what we have here…"

Heather's record was laid out before them. It was full of info that was largely irrelevant but there were some intriguing tidbits of info.

Disciplinary Actions

"Aw man, we gotta check this out." Ashley said excitedly.

_3/18/09_

_Student Heather Sloan was pestered by a male student. Said student kept touching Sloan until she punched him to the ground and kicked him repeatedly. 1-week suspension._

_5/7/07_

_Student Heather Sloan reported that items of her locker were stolen. The student responsible was found by Sloan and tackled to the ground by her as she demanded the return of her stolen goods. 3-day suspension._

_10/11/05_

_Student Heather Sloan had her lunch taken and trashed. Later in the lunch period, the male student responsible was 'ambushed' by Sloan as she kicked him in the groin. 1-week suspension._

"Woah. Heather…got some anger in her huh?" Valarie commented.

"Yeah, no kidding."

Ashley then clicked on and they both read about Heather.

_"The parents of Heather Sloan has informed the school that their daughter has the tendency to form intense attachments to certain things and will be fiercely protective of them if school staff or students do anything that she perceives to be a threat. Heather Sloan has demonstrated the ability to do harm so it is prudent for school staff to have a watchful eye and exercise caution when dealing with a potential outburst. Additionally, her parents have also informed the school that as of 3/25/09, Sloan has begun attending therapy to get a handle on her anger. In an effort to assist her treatment, the nurse's office shall carry antidepressant medication."_

"Well. That opened some eyes." Ashley remarked.

"Let's go. I learned more…than I wanted too." Valarie admitted.

Everything on the computer was closed. Valarie peeked out the window and saw the team still huddled around the Puma. They left the office silently and rejoined the group without anyone noticing their absence. Though when they arrived, the lecture has concluded. The team dispersed and returned to their vehicles.

"Valarie!" Buchanan yelled.

She jumped when she heard her name. She meekly approached the instructor.

"Hey Val, I've been thinking that- Hey, why are you so pale? You sick?"

"Ah...ah...no! Feeling great! I'm...good. What's up?"

Buchanan was confused but put it aside.

"Okay, most Tankery teams have a co-captain, especially large ones. Having a co-captain is not mandated by the ATA but what is mandated is that they must be one of the commanders. We both know that the team will grow. So I think we should have one sooner rather than later."

Valarie thought about the idea and nodded.

"Yeah...that sounds good. Who do you think it should be?"

"Well you're the captain, you choose."

Buchanan walked away and Valarie was wracked in thought over who to be the co-captain. She returned to her crew. They all worked on the T-44, cleaning it up and doing minor repairs. New ammunition was loaded and it wasn't long before they were done. Valarie climbed onto her machine and sat on the turret. From this vantage point, she saw the team at work. She contemplated her options. Who would make a good co-captain? Surely, it had to be someone willing to go the extra mile and put in the effort. They would also need to be experienced being a tanker but everyone here only has one match so far in their whole career. Valarie thought in silence for a few moments. Names echoed in her head. Sage...Natalie...Robin...Mia...Ray….

Then it hit her.

_Ray!_

It was Ray and his friends who got the team their first tank, the IS-3. And they were all driving the thing around before the Tankery team even started. Ray had the most experience being a commander, if only marginally. He, out of everyone, was the most fit being a co-captain. With a candidate in mind, Valarie went straight to Buchanan. The more she thought about it, the surer she was with her choice.

"Miss Buchanan, I thought about having a co-captain. I choose Ray." she informed.

Buchanan was only half surprised.

"A part of me expected his name to come out of your lips. Out of all the commanders, he has spent the most time in a tank. But he has a lot to learn, and that goes for you too. Now, go over to him and offer that position. Can't force him, ya know."

Valarie departed and walked directly toward Ray. He noticed this and was a little apprehensive over what this was all about.

"Hey." she greeted.

"Hi...what's up?"

"Would you agree that you have the most experience with your vehicle?"

"Sure? Not super better than everyone else but I am very comfortable commanding this tank."

"Good. Ray, as you know I am the head commander, or captain, of this team."

"Yeah, everyone knows that. Where are you going with this?"

"My point is this; a captain of a Tankery team needs help and we all know this team will get bigger so inevitably my responsibility being the captain will increase."

Ray nodded.

"Yeah, having like an assistant or something would be helpful for you."

"I was thinking...someone more on an equal footing. Like a co-captain."

"Oh! Yeah, that sounds way better than 'assistant'. This team would benefit from someone like that. Who are you thinking of fulfilling that role?"

"You."

"Huh?!"

"You!"

"...me?"

"Please?"

Ray placed his hands on his hips and stared at the floor.

"Man, that job just demands more responsibility...I don't know."

He scratched the back of his head.

"You'll get to have silver stars sewn on the collar of your uniform." Valarie said

"I'll do it."

The two shook hands. Ray's promotion was effective immediately. He was led to Valarie's backpack where she gave him the playbook.

"Read and study it. If you truly have something to contribute, just go for it."

Ray flipped throw some of the pages and was amazed over all its content.

"This is real sick. Hey, what are these maps? They look like some forested area."

"Oh, that's the map of the battlefield against Oceanside High School. Get the lay of the land. Later, you, me, and the other commanders will come together and brainstorm some strategy."

Ray tucked the binder in between his arms.

"I'll get right to it. I won't let anyone down."

Ray returned to his crew with the playbook firmly in his possession. Valarie then started to return to her crew but was accosted by Natalie.

"I really hope this isn't a huge mistake, Valarie." she said. Natalie has witnessed the whole conservation take place.

"You do know what tends to happen when men have power."

Valarie couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Do you honestly think Ray would even dare thinking about doing whatever horrible things you think he would do? Look, I've only known him as long as this team existed but never could I ever think that Ray could do anything terrible. Besides, how much power do you think being co-captain entails?"

"Hey, I want to be wrong. I truly do. But, if he abuses his power in any way…"

"I'll take care of it if..._IF_ it happens. Okay?"

"Alright...alright. I hope Ray thrives as the co-captain. But I'll be watching him."

Natalie left. Valarie had a sour taste in her mouth after their talk. The tone of Natalie's voice gave off the impression that Ray has already done something wrong and was on probation. The very last thing Valarie wanted was tension in the team and here it was brewing, albeit slowly and unnoticed by no one else but her and Natalie. Before she let herself get too frustrated, she calmed herself and returned to her friends.

In the midst of all the working students, Redwood entered the garage. Buchanan saw him and went to meet him.

"Hey, you got those sponsor patches?"

"Yes, plus extras."

"Now we just gotta sew them all on...yay."

The two adults sighed. They had a lot of work ahead of them. Upon the conclusion of that day's meeting, the team was told to leave their uniforms so that they can be worked on. Sat on crates, the pair worked through the night sewing patches on uniforms. A laborious task made even more so that even the surplus uniforms needed to be worked on so that they can be ready in the future. A future that they both discussed incessantly.

"Have you been on the lookout for new vehicles? I've had some students ask me when more room will be available on the team." Redwood asked, needle steady in his hand.

"No, now's not a good time for new tanks." she replied

"Why not? We got the funds."

"It's not about the cash, it's once again about time. The next match is next Saturday. Finding a vehicle, buying it, getting it here, getting a crew and training them all in that amount of time is just too much. We were against the clock before but now the time is just too short."

"Alright, I can understand that."

"After our match with Oceanside, they'll be a hiatus in the tournament. No matches till February on the account of Christmas and New Years. That is when we go searching for more additions for our roster"

"Well that's good but that doesn't mean we can't be on the lookout till then. Does that junkyard have more vehicles?"

Buchanan stopped sewing and looked at the ceiling in thought. Finally she said,

"No...we cleaned up that place. The only things left are piles of scrap that resemble tanks when you look at them the right way."

They sewed for a few more minutes.

"Competition for tanks is tough, ya know." she continued.

"Things like a Tiger or IS-2 attract every school in a hundred-mile radius. They go mad trying to get it. We got very lucky with the vehicles we have, especially getting that IS-3."

"Well, what about dealerships? They got tanks."

"Those places? Look, they'll sell you a nice tank but what isn't nice is the price tag. More well-off schools go to the dealership. Schools with ludicrous amounts of money go to some company where they build tanks for them. Imagine that?"

Redwood's eyes opened and set down his threat and needle.

"That reminds me."

He walked toward his office and returned, with a magazine in hand.

"Saw this at the store while doing some errands. Take a look."

Buchanan was given the magazine and read through it. A big advert caught her attention.

"Contest...race...Panther II?" she said as she read.

"An engineering company, Patton something, is holding a race. The winner gets a Panther II, approved for matches."

Buchanan read every bit of detail.

"From April 8th to the 12th, at Houston, Texas, the 2013 Tankery Convention will host a race held by Patton Heavy Duty Engineering. Hmm."

"Coincidentally, those dates happen to coincide with our spring break." Redwood added.

Buchanan put down the magazine and smiled.

"We're going for this. A team with a Panther II with night vision might as well have an Abrams." she said with an intense determination.

Redwood was pleased.

"I'd knew someone like yourself would love this. And with it being next year, we got loads of time to prepare for it."

They smiled at each other.

"April sounds so far away. A lot of things can happen." Buchanan remarked.

"I hope the time between now and then is good...but for times to be good, it must first get bad."

At around 6:30 PM was the team dismissed thought it was four hours later when Redwood and Buchanan were finally finished. Both of their fingers were sore and covered with bandages. Their hands weren't as steady as they thought. For the remainder of the week, the team met daily just as they have done so before. Yet, now there was a new routine. The commanders of the team would meet regularly and discuss strategy. Commanders would also use this time to relay suggestions, comments, and concerns to the captains. That weekend was filled with practice. Though now the team was well acclimated to the long hours, it was still energy-draining as ever. In the middle of practice, Ashley was giving her opinion of the new patches on their uniforms.

"I can't believe we sold out. We all look like billboards. Ugh." she complained.

Ray was just nearby. The T-44 and IS-3 were parked next to each other, their crews having a break from practice. Occasionally, there were the distant thuds of friendly guns.

"I hear you but this sport isn't cheap. We just can't go to the store and buy tank rounds." Ray said.

Ashley took another look at her patches.

"Well...if it's the only way. At least this one looks pretty cool. A Roman soldier or something.

"Actually is a Greek hoplite." Ray corrected.

"Ah, Greece...Rome...Tomato...Tomahto.

Ray decided not to engage in some debate and rejoined his crew. They were having lunch. He spotted Ryan with a burger in hand.

"Oh hey, nice burger...where's mine?" he said jokingly

"Me? Bring you food? Fool, I can't afford you. I know how much food you can put down and still eat more. It's a miracle that you don't weigh half a ton."

Ray chuckled.

"Was just kidding. I brought my own lunch."

He reached into his bag and brought out a sub sandwich, cut in halves.

"Dude." Jeremy said

"Don't those things feed like three people?"

"It's feeding just one person today."

Other than being one of the few boys participating in the Tankery team, Ray also had the reputation of having a voracious appetite. Be it munching down of a 16-pieces of fried chicken or a whole 18-inch pizza, Ray had surprised people by eating food that would fill other people and still eating just a bit more. The fact that he wasn't fat amazed and perplexed people. One of the primary motivators of him joining the team was the prospect of traveling. As traveling meant eating new food. He'd talk to Valarie about travel and where the team would go next.

"Okay up north is the one next week. What's after?" he asked.

"Um...some place near Phoenix, Arizona." Valarie responded

"And? What else?"

"Man I dunno. I'd ask Miss Buchanan but she wouldn't appreciate being asked about things that aren't relevant right now."

Days go by and meetings are conducted and practices done. As the day of the match with Oceanside approach, Redwood was very busy to ensure that the trip up north was as smooth as possible. Buchanan was with him in the garage office as he worked.

"Okay, the charter bus is all set. It'll take ten hours to get Fort Jones, just a few miles from where the match will take place."

"And what of our tanks? How are they getting up there?"

"They'll be carried on a train. Our tanks will get there before we will. "

Buchanan was comforted by all this. She can rest easy now that all the crew and equipment will be taken care of.

"So, when are we leaving?" she asked.

"10:00 AM. Friday. If the traffic is good, we'll arrive at around 8:00 PM. We have a motel reserved for us so we can rest up.

"Nice."

"Oh...about that motel. They only have so many rooms. You and I will have to share a room. Two beds though, so it'll be alright."

Buchanan was disappointed. Though it wasn't because they had to share a room.

_Friday_

_December 14th, 2012._

At the front of Mojave Rose High School, a charter bus was parked. And beside it, was a collection of excited students. Each had bags with them and though they were only be traveling for the weekend, the storage hold of the bus was filled to capacity. Once Redwood has finished talking with the driver, he signaled for everyone to get on board. Most of the team made a mad scramble for the coveted rear seats of the bus. They were filled instantly. Valarie and Emma sat near the back of the vehicle and made themselves comfortable for the long trip ahead of them. On Valarie's lap was the playbook that Ray returned. She read through it and was pleased to find that he has added something to the book. In blue ink, he wrote,

"Firing on the move is a tactic that is inadvisable in almost all situations. You run the risk of depleting your ammunition before being able to accurately fire upon the enemy."

As the last of the team settled in their seats, the door closed. The bus had only driven a few feet and already was the atmosphere onboard was electric. Everyone was chatting with the people in their proximity. Ten hours to Fort Jones. The surface streets of Barstow was soon replaced by the I-15, albeit briefly. It wasn't long before the bus was now on California State Route 58. They would drive on this stretch of road for some time. For the team, this trip was going to be a fun one, even if they will be on the bus for the majority of the time. Opportunities for long-distance travel were few and far between. As the miles added up and the longevity of the trip was soaked in by the team, conservation lessened. But there was still an audible murmur among all. The weather was sunny when they first departed but the sky was steadily growing more cloudy as the team drove farther up north. Buchanan noted this change and shook Redwood from his nap.

"Have you checked the weather for the match? It's getting real cloudy."

"We're still miles away. It can way different at Fort Jones."

"Hopefully."

Back at the rear of the bus, conservation still lingered. Now, as all other more typical topics of discussion have been exhausted, people were talking about things there were more odd and peculiar, much to Heather's delight. Weird stories were being shared. As it happened, Valarie thought about what her cousin had told her and wrestled with herself over whether or not to share it. From across the aisle, Ashley noted Valarie's inner strife and decide to make it worse.

"Val. You got a story to share, do ya? Yeah you do…" she dared

Valarie shifted in her seat.

"Umm…"

"C'mon. Spill it."

The people around her egged her on. Eventually, they wore her down.

"AlrightAlright. I got one I heard over Thanksgiving from my cousin. Something...bizarre"

All around Valarie had her attention.

"I got this Aunt whose real full of herself. To a point where my mom and her don't talk anymore. What my cousin has told me is that at some point in time, my aunt got pregnant and planned on showing off the baby after birth. That is...she planned too. What I understand is that minutes after birth, the baby passed away."

Silence.

"You were supposed to share a weird story. That's just sad." someone said.

"I haven't gotten to the odd part yet, wait a second." Valarie responded.

"So, afterward, my cousin said that the event has totally changed her personality. Even if she had a superiority complex, she still had some good things about her. Now they were all gone. The part that even I have a tough time accepting is this; my aunt then had her baby cryogenically frozen and currently is being housed at some cryo facility."

Valarie was met with stares of disbelief.

"That's not true.

"Sounds like bullshit."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"It's just what I heard." Valarie said.

"Are you sure this isn't your cousin messing with you?" Emma questioned.

"If it was, it would be the first time."

No one else could top what Valarie has told them, even though not any of them believe it. Valarie was concerned that by sharing what her cousin has told her would spread around as gossip does but since everyone outright dismissed what they heard, she wasn't worried anymore.

The bus has traveled 99 miles along Route 58 when they took a turn toward Sacramento. The farther north they got, the more the weather worsened. Trees that they sped by were at the mercy of forceful wind gusts. The clouds were darker as well. All signs that point toward rain. Buchanan checked her phone.

_Storm Advisory - Isolated Thunderstorms_

"Great." she uttered.

"Do you think this storm could impact the match? Could it be postponed...or even canceled?" Redwood inquired.

Buchanan scoffed at he said.

"The ATA has only canceled matches only a handful of times in its over 70 years of operation and not once for the weather. We're full steam ahead on this one. My worry is how the team will handle being caught in a thunderstorm while focusing on the match.

"Good thing I packed weather gear. Pays to be prepared."

They still had a few more hours of driving to go. Heather, sat at the rear, was tapping the heel of her shoe repeatedly against the floor.

"Do you think our tank is okay on the train?" she asked Ashley, who was sitting next to her.

"Ahhh, I'm sure it is. Actually, it should already be at the match by now, waiting for us."

"But what if the train derailed? Or what if when they are driving it, they don't shift gears right and ruin the transmission? Or what if-"

"Heather. Stop. The only thing you, me, and everyone else can do is wait. So just chill out!"

Heather reclined into her seat but the anxiety festered. She would really appreciate if this bus went faster. Other than a few moments here and there, she had spent most of the trip worried sick over the T-44. The sooner she got to her machine, the better she will feel.

More time has passed and by now the sun has set beneath the horizon. The bus has finally pulled off the freeway and arrived at Fort Jones. Just a few more minutes and the vehicle was parked in front of a motel. It was 8:47 PM. There was a clattering sound that pelted the roof. It let them know of one thing.

It was raining. Hard.

Those sitting by the windows can see in the distant far off bolts of lightning. Outside of the motel was an employee holding an umbrella. They were waiting for their arrival. Redwood got out and greeted them.

"Mojave Rose?" the employee asked.

"Yes. Hope we're not too late" he replied

"Nah, y'all good. Let's get everyone to their rooms quickly before we're all drenched."

The employee called for his colleagues to join and assist. The team disembarked and walked rapidly to the dry motel. Once inside, they were all moderately wet but none were too bothered by it. Each crew had a room assigned to them. The team quickly realized that it wasn't feasible for them to sleep in one bed. To avoid arguing, Buchanan instructed that all commanders get the bed. This meant that everyone else had to sleep on couches and floors. As they were getting situated, an employee approached Redwood and pulled him aside.

"Excuse me sir, um, but it appears that our system made an error and booked you a dual-bed room. We...don't have rooms like that."

"Ah man, that's-"

"...not an issue at all! We'll be fine. Thanks" Buchanan interjected.

"That's good to hear. We apologize all the same."

The employee departed. Redwood turned to Buchanan.

"You really okay with this arrangement, Gabby?"

"Oh, it's no big deal Martin."

In their rooms, the team made themselves as comfy as they can. The rain has increased in intensity. Lighting and thunder were becoming more frequent. In one of these rooms, on the second floor. Emma was gazing out the window.

"What are you looking at?" Valarie inquired.

"The rain. The lightning. I adore it. This doesn't happen much back home, but here, much more regular." Emma said softly.

The pair together watched the weather. The storm provided for a tranquil atmosphere, even if at times the thunder can be violently loud. The hour grew late and the girls prepared to sleep. Heather's worry about the T-44 remained high and she was rummaging through her bag for something to assuage her worries. But, she couldn't find it.

_"You forgot your medication. You dumb bitch."_ Heather thought internally.

She laid back on her makeshift bed on the floor and attempted to go to sleep.

In another room on the same floor, Redwood and Buchanan readied for bed.

"Please Martin, don't sleep on the couch."

"Well...I just think that this would be...more appropriate." he replied

"C'mon I'm cool with it. This bed isn't terribly small. And I bet it's a helluva more comfortable than that couch."

Redwood acquiesced.

"Alright Gabby, if you're fine with it."

The two now laid in bed next to each other. The sound of rain hitting the roof filled the room.

"You know something Martin? You've called be 'Gabby' for as long as I've known you. And truthfully, I never liked nicknames and such. But when you say it, I'm not bothered by it at all. In fact...I think I like it? Yeah...I do."

"Man, do I feel special." Redwood said in a tease.

"And the reason why I like it when you called me 'Gabby' is because I-"

The room was fully illuminated by a lightning bolt followed immediately by a loud crack of thunder. All conservation ceased.

"Because what?" Redwood asked

"Because-"

More thunder.

"Bec-"

And again.

"B-"

Once more.

"Ah forget it." Buchanan said frustrated.

"Guess God is pissed at me for whatever reason. The bastard."

Buchanan turned away from Redwood. He looked at her with puzzlement. He tried to guess what Buchanan was trying to say. He didn't think for too long as he fell asleep shortly after.

The motel was quiet. As quiet as it can be during a storm. Even with all the thunder, people were sleeping. Except for Heather. Normally when worry has kept her awake, she'd take some medication to calm herself to a point to fall asleep. But, as she forgotten to pack them, she couldn't sleep. Her mind was totally focused on the well-being of the T-44. If anything really horrible happened to it, it would have been known by everyone by now but...this anxiety kept troubling her. She thought about leaving the motel and walking to the match to tend to her machine but that would land her in huge trouble. Besides, the weather was awful. She'll just have to endure this agonizing wait and try to get some sleep.

The match was to begin at noon just like the last one. Morning arrived but you wouldn't know without looking at a clock as the clouds were thick and dark. The rain had relented but has not stopped completely. The morning was treated to a sprinkle. Buchanan has gone room to room and woke the team up and told them to get dressed. By now, the team was used to waking early in the morning. They all congregated in the lobby and were treated to some breakfast. The bus was outside, ready to shuttle them

"Everyone better have what you need because we aren't coming back to the motel until the match is over."

They were taken to the bus and it drove to the match. Just up the road was Klamath Forest. Amidst all of the various species of Pine and Fir trees, was a clearing. This is where all the tents and trailers were being situated. Already was there an abundance of people. The bus halted and the moment the doors swung open, Heather bolted out of the vehicle and made a beeline for the vehicles.

"Woah! Heather! Easy now!" Buchanan yelled at her.

The rest of the team left the bus and want to their tanks. When they all arrived, they saw Heather already at work preparing the T-44 for the match.

"Well Heather, it looks like the train didn't derail." Ashley teased her.

"The tracks got misaligned during transit. We need to fix this." Heather said in a serious tone.

"Oh yes ma'am, right away." Ashley said sarcastically.

They all tended to their vehicles and anything that went awry during their transport was quickly remedied. Due to the weather, everyone was wearing rain ponchos that Redwood has packed for them. Another donation from the Military Surplus store. Work didn't last for too long and the team was now just meandering about until the order was given to drive to the starting area. Valarie talked with her crew.

"Anyone see Oceanside's tanks? I haven't seen any tanks since we got here."

They all responded no.

"Having your tanks in this area for spectators to see isn't mandated." Heather explained.

"More than likely that Oceanside has deployed elsewhere so that we can't see what they have."

Valarie turned toward all the spectators and spotted some girls, wearing uniforms, looking at them.

"That's just great. They know what we have but we don't know what's up with them."

She walked off and found Ray.

"We're going in blind this match. They deployed somewhere else." Valarie informed.

"Ugh. I thought it was a rule to show your tanks for everybody?" Ray asked

"Thought the same way. Guess not."

'"Is the plan still on?"

"Maybe."

"We don't know their strength and combined with this shitty weather...this is gonna be a rough one."

Thunder cracked just right above them. The sensation was unreal and they both jumped. From it, she got an idea.

"Good God! That thunder literally cannot be louder." Ray complained.

"Yeah...thunder can be a great silencer don't ya think?" Valarie said slyly.

"No kidding, talking over the radio will be a nightmare."

Valarie continued looking at Ray.

"What? Am I wrong?"

"Ah, I'll tell you what I meant when it's relevant."

She walked away and left a befuddled Ray.

The plan has been altered though no one but Valarie knew it just yet. An hour later, the Mojave Rose Tankery team has been instructed to head over to the starting over. Oceanside's vehicles were still yet to be seen. The starting area couldn't be more different from the Bascom match. It was nestled in a forested area bordered by a stream. The rain had now intensified and everyone was bunkered in their machines. Within the T-44, the sound of rain hitting metal was loud.

"Alright." Valarie said over the radio.

"You all been briefed on the plan but there has been a slight edit. I will inform you when we reach our position."

Valarie set aside the radio.

"What changed?" Ashley asked.

"You'll find out when everyone else does." Valarie answered.

"Oh, you're going to be like that huh? Gee. That's real swell."

"I don't care what changed. All I care about is if the opposition has artillery." Heather commented.

"I just hope we get a break in the weather. A few minutes without rain would be great." said Emma.

Valarie turned toward her.

"Oh, on the contrary."

The official outside shot their starting pistol in the sky.

"Pray for rain."


	7. Mojave Rose v. Oceanside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of a beautiful forest in Northern California, two groups of high school students shoot at each other with old military equipment for sport. The next match in the National Tournament begins in earnest!

Not a speck of land way dry. The downpour hasn't stopped and shown no indication of it doing so. In fact, the rainclouds were growing darker as the storm was strengthening. In any other sport that was played outdoors, such rough weather would warrant the match being postponed or even being canceled and rescheduled. Not for tankery.

"If the crews of these machines had to endure this weather, so will the participants of Tankery." an ATA official reported to the media.

For how Americans viewed Tankery, as long as the participants weren't in extreme danger matches were permitted to continue. Weather can introduce a bunch of unknown variables into a match but the ATA has never viewed such phenomena to be dangerous enough. Even tornados, infamously common in the United States, are not enough to cancel a match. If one were to form on a battlefield, teams would simply be told to 'play around the weather'. The ATA would face regular criticism for its 'total disregard for the weather' though in over 70 years of existence, not one tanker has been injured as a result of weather. Today's match was business as usual.

The drive was a slog. The roads have become hellish mudholes. Machines had to fight to move and occasionally one would get bogged down, needing the assistance of other vehicles to be pulled free. This made progress slow and Valarie nervous.

"If this stop-and-go stuff keeps happening, that would throw a wrench in our plans."

Mojave Rose was on their way to a position that all the commanders agreed was the best place to execute what they concocted. The destination was a dense area of the forest that made for ideal concealment. Though they had no intel on the exact position of Oceanside, they did know that they were in their general direction as teams were deployed on opposite ends of the battlefield. Among this dense area of woodland was a road, the only one in the area. Mojave Rose was betting that Oceanside will take the road. However, they need to get there first and currently, they might as well be crawling. The mud was an incredible hassle. If they slowed down too much, they would risk missing their opportunity. Worse, Oceanside may find them like this in the mud and annihilate them. They needed to pick up the pace.

"_Juniper_, take point. Everyone attach tow cables to each other. We need to get out of this mud" ordered Valarie.

The IS-3 positioned itself in front of the team and every team took their steel tow cables and attached them to the vehicles in front and behind them. In tandem, the team drove forward with the IS-3 acting sort of like a train engine. The speed they were now traveling in were not the fastest but it was consistent and no one was getting stuck anymore. 20 minutes of driving and they finally got off the mud and arrived at their destination. They halted just 500 meters beyond the road. All the commanders, with binoculars in hand, scrutinized the road ahead of them. To their delight, it was untouched. Oceanside has not yet used it, if that was their intention in the first place. An order was given out and the team spread out along one side of the road, maintaining a 500-meter distance. They had formed a firing line. Once done, Valarie took a look at the environment that they were in.

"There sure are a lot of bushes and leaves...just lying around here." she said.

She grabbed the radio.

"Attention all. I want two members of each tank to go outside and cover your vehicles with foliage. Conceal your tanks the best you can."

Valarie tapped Emma on the shoulder.

"Let's get to it."

The pair hopped out their tank and forage for anything that could hide the T-44. Bushes were uprooted off the ground and branches were torn off trees. Everything was wet and the ground was slippery. Some people have lost their footing and fell. The team, being a sympathetic bunch, laughed at them. Those that took a tumble were covered with mud, with leaves and grass stuck to them. It was something that they did not appreciate. Back at the T-44, Valarie and Emma were putting the finishing touches on their disguise. As the last bush was placed, they both took a step back to admire their handiwork.

"That'll do." Valarie said.

"Not bad, eh?" Emma commented

Valarie looked at the other vehicles and was pleased to see that everyone else has placed half the forest on their tanks. They all remounted their vehicles and waited. Within the T-44, the girls sat in their positions ready to do their jobs the moment the opposition arrives. Though as the minutes went by, they relaxed a little. Ashley was looking at her fingers in a bid to waste time until a thought entered her head. She leaned forward and tapped Heather on the shoulder.

"Shhh, you hear that?" she asked quietly.

"No...what?" Heather asked

Ashley got as close as she can.

"Bigfoot." she answered.

"Huh? WhereWhereWhere?!"

Heather opened the drivers' hatch and her head shot out of it. She scanned the forest looking for the famously elusive wildman.

"Aw man, Heather, I think we just missed him."

"Goddamn, we were _this_ close to seeing the creature."

She sighed and sank into her seat. Ashley had to stifle her laughter. She noticed glares from Valarie.

"Ease up Val, I wish the thing was there too. Anything to break the monotony."

Valarie rolled her eyes.

"Let's keep sharp-"

The distant sounds of approaching engines entered the area, interrupting what Valarie was saying. The team had this eager anticipation. Each commander instructed their loader to insert a shell into the breech. Valarie's voice came over the radio. It was time to inform the team to the change of plan she had alluded to earlier.

"All vehicles! Listen up! On my command will you fire. We will time our shots with the thunder to mask their sound."

The first of Oceanside's vehicles appeared, a band of Panzer IIIs acting as a vanguard. Soon, more were sighted. A lot more.

"Man, that's gotta be all of 'em." remarked Marielle. Her VK was the flag tank.

"Yeah, but no sign of their flag tank...yet." Natalie said.

"Pick your targets but hold your fire." Valarie ordered.

The team trained their guns on the vehicles ahead of them. Slowly, their turrets rotated as they tracked their targets. Oceanside was oblivious to the danger that they drove into. Now the weather had to play its part

"Steady. Steady." Valaire said.

The tanks on the road then stopped and Mojave Rose froze. Had they been spotted? None of Oceanside's vehicles were turning their guns toward their direction so they were safe for now, but why else would they stop? They didn't know it but Oceansides forward tanks have stopped so that its remaining forces can catch up

"C'mon thunder...where are you?" Valarie said quietly.

The rain was still coming down hard. Lightning flashed in the distance but no thunder. This has caused some anxiety.

"If we don't open up, the chances increase that we'll get spotted." Ashley said

The rest of the commanders voiced their concerns over the radio.

"Just give it another minute." Valarie told them

Oceanside's tanks resumed driving much to Valarie's dismay. Though just as hope in the hap was diminishing, a large bolt of lighting manifested above the area followed by the loudest thunderclap mother nature has ever produced.

"Open fire!" Valarie yelled.

The entire Mojave Rose team opened fire and each shot has found their mark. In mere moments, Oceanside had lost a handful of vehicles. Every time thunder sounded, it coincided with a volley of cannon fire. Pandemonium broke out among Oceanside. They had no clue where the shots were coming from. Some tanks moved back and forth as they faced indecision over what to do, which resulted in them being eliminated. The thunder subsided and the guns went silent. The surviving tanks reversed quickly out of the line of fire. 11 of Oceanside's tanks were knocked out and laid wrecked on the road. Yet none was the flag tank.

One of the commanders of the last Panzer IIIs, now calm, thinking about what just happened.

"Jesus...that was a massacre." she said

"That's why you wait." A voice said over the radio.

"What direction did those shots come from?" it questioned

The Panzer III commander looked ahead at her knocked out comrades and saw the smoke emanating from the spot where they were hit.

"Left side." she reported.

"Copy. We're en-route to engage."

Mojave Rose remained where they were, waiting to see if the enemy will make another attempt. They didn't wait long as they remembered what happened when they waited with the match with Bascom.

"We're gonna pursue the enemy. All tanks-" Valaire said but was interrupted by Robin.

"Another vehicle is coming! It's the flag tank!"

"Oh. My. God."

Oceanside's flag tank slowly drove into the firing line. It was a huge machine but somewhat flat somewhat resembling a StuG III if it was heavily mutated, yet it wasn't a German tank. Its long barrel was menacing and armor thick. Then, the 105mm T5E1 cannon of the T95 Gun Motor Carriage turned toward Mojave Rose. Every tank fired upon the monster but all shots either shattered on impact or ricocheted off the thick steel. Even the IS-3 had no chance of penetrating the front armor of the tank destroyer.

"Everyone back up! We can't pen this thing at its front!" Valarie commanded.

As a singular unit, the team backed up. By doing so their concealment has fallen off, becoming more visible.

"This is what they call a 'target-rich environment', isn't this swell?" the T95 commander told her crew.

The T95 traversed its gun as it chooses who to fire upon. Behind them was the rest of Oceanside, ready to back them up.

"I spy an IS-3." she said cheerfully.

The tank destroyer stopped and readied for a shot. As the gunner made out the distance, they were hit by another round. It didn't penetrate but they were covered with smoke.

"Goddamnit! Drive on! Get us out of this smoke!"

Yet the smoke seemed to be endless. They drove and drove and still where they in the gray shroud. Mojave Rose was pelting the T95 with smoke shells to obscure its vision. It was annoying. Very. Annoying.

"Damn bastards. The first tank we see is getting blasted to fuck!"

Once Mojave Rose has backed up enough, they turned and get out of the area fast. They departed with no casualties and the T95 was too slow to pursue at the moment. The distance between them grew quickly. Now, they had to formulate a way to knock out that monster. A frontal assault was out of the question. They needed to hit its side, or better yet, its rear, but that was easier said than done. Getting to the thing will be a hazard as for sure it won't be alone. They drove out of the dense forest and found another road. After a few more minutes and a few more miles, they halted.

"They won't outpace their T95. They gotta support the thing so Oceanside moves, at best, 8 miles an hour." Valarie informed.

"So, how do we take that thing done?" Ray asked.

"Side or rear. Though they will fight like hell to prevent that."

"Ah, of course. Don't suppose the weather can give us another edge, hm?"

Valarie looked up toward the sky. The rain had transitioned to a sprinkle.

"Doubt it." she said.

Another voice echoed on the radio.

"Why not prep another ambush?" Natalie suggested.

Valarie pondered over this. She was a bit hesitant as people typically don't let themselves get ambushed twice on the same day. Oceanside will most definitely be vigilant when they drive around the battlefield. Though, it would give the team the opportunity to plant a round on the side of the T95. There was some risk but that was just the name of the game. She decided to go with it.

"Alright, let's follow this road and nestle ourselves in a good position."

They searched for a suitably thick patch of trees and bushes. Once found, they did the same thing as before and hide their tanks.

"_Juniper_, you're taking the shot. You got the biggest gun around."

"Copy." Ray responded.

The team sat there ready to spring another. The rain once again picked up and thunder and lightning intensified. As the weather got tenser, so did the team. If the IS-3 can pull off the shot, the match would be there's. Ray looked at Ryan.

"You feeling good?" he asked

"Yeah, dude...just feeling a lot of pressure."

"Whatever happens, we got your back."

A break in the weather ushered in a silence that produced a peculiar feeling. Not a thing in the forest made a sound. There was no singing of the birds or the scattering of woodland creatures. The wind was still. This only served to increase everyone's apprehension. They could only wait and it was becoming unbearable. In the T-44, the girls were quiet, as was everyone else. Valarie then prodded Ashley.

"Load a smoke shell...just in case." she asked.

The wait was agonizing but it was not an intentional tactic by Oceanside. The poor roads have made the already slow T95 even slower. Nonetheless, it was determined to pursue Mojave Rose and it was getting closer and closer. Eventually, this mammoth machine made its arrival. It made deep imprints on the ground as it moved at a steady pace. Behind it was the rest of Oceanside, performing escort duty. They consisted of three Panther Ausf. Ds, six M24 Chaffees, and the remaining Panzer III. The T95 had inadvertently presented its side to the IS-3. The opportunity was now.

"It's all yours _Juniper_." Valarie said.

The gun of the IS-2 traversed and was laid upon the T95. It tracked its quarry.

"Target acquired." informed Ryan

Ray watched from his periscope as the T95 advanced.

"Fire."

A tremendous explosion erupted at the end of the barrel and out of the fire and the flames was a 122mm armor-piercing round heading straight toward the T95. Less than a second later, it found its mark and there was a grand impact.

"Got them!" Ryan exclaimed

The radio, long silent, had erupted into celebration. Within the IS-3, the mood was electric. Mojave Rose has once again won the day.

They thought so at least.

The T95 took a big hit but there was no white flag to been seen on its roof. There was a series of mechanical sounds which was followed by the outer layer of the tracks falling off. The shot from the IS-3 had only immobilized one set of tracks and it was discarded like how a surgeon amputates a mangled limb. In the middle of Mojave Rose's celebration, none had noticed that the T95 had turned toward their direction and aimed ints 105mm at the Jagdpanzer IV. Its subsequent elimination informed Mojave Rose that the match was still on.

"Oh Shit! Everyone pop smoke!" Valarie ordered in a panic.

The team shot their smoke shells and began to retreat. But before the smoke could fully spread out, the T95 sighted and fired upon the M5 Stuard. The small light tank stood no chance.

"Twice in a row!? What bullshit." Mia complained.

The rest of Oceanside fired in the smoke but all were misses. Mojave Rose escaped once again but was rattled. The mood among them had done a 180. Anxiety and nervous has taken root. They went deeper into the forest. After some distance was made, they paused for another respite.

"I can't believe what happened...never would I ever imagine a tank shedding weight." Robin remarked.

"Yeah, ain't that something." Marielle said

"As if that thing needed to be scarier."

Valarie took stock of the situation. They had lost only 2 vehicles compared to Oceanside's 11. Though casualties were near meaningless in a flag match, especially with a vehicle like a T95 in play. The plan that they had done twice will not work a third time, Oceanside is now far more aware of such a tactic. They need another form of trickery to win this day. Though for now, the only thing that came to mind was to keep driving and maintain some distance. The assumption was that Oceanside would remain with its T95, so Mojave Rose was safe for the time being as long as they collectively drove faster than 8 miles an hour.

Making assumptions is something none of them will ever make again.

"I got three incoming fast at our rear!" Ray reported.

Three Panthers were speeding toward them. They had detached from the main force in order to chase done Mojave Rose. Their guns opened as they entered a sufficient range, shells flying around the team.

"_Arroyo,_ I want you with _Mirage_ and _Yucca_ to drive on. Everyone else...about-face. Engage the enemy!" Valarie ordered.

The three vehicles continued and retreated from the engagement. The rest turned and pointed their armor to the approaching tanks. Shells whizzed past them all. Flying over or landing near them. The 85mm of the T-44, the 17-pounder of the ACIV, and the 122mm of the IS-3 returned fire. A shell from the IS-3 slammed against the front hull of one of the Panthers and it crawled to a halt. The remaining two pressed forward. The distance between them getting shorter and Valarie was becoming unsettled over how close they were getting. At this range, missing was becoming less and less likely for all involved. One of the Panthers was exceptionally fast and heading straight for the T-44.

"Okay...that's close enough...brake!" Ordered the Panther commander.

Brakes were applied but the Panther still moved forward.

"I said stop!"

"I am! But it won't!" replied the driver.

The intense rain has made the grass that the vehicles treaded on very slippery. As such, when the Panther attempted the brake, it merely slid across the forest floor and collided with the T-44

"Aw man, so this is what it feels like!" Valarie exclaimed

"Reverse! Reverse!" the Panther commander yelled.

But Valarie had other ideas.

"Hug that Panther and arrest that gun!" she ordered.

Heather, with glee, pressed down the throttle and the T-44 maintained physical contact with the Panther. Its barrel was used to hold down the gun of the Panther. Their weapon wasn't allowed to traverse and aim at them. This 'sword fight' went on for a minute as neither side wanted to give up. Had this fight just been a 1v1, it would have been a toss-up for who would win but that just wasn't the case. The companion Panther was knocked out by the ACIV and it and the IS-3 turned their attention to the duel and saw the unusual sight before. It was comical, in a way. Neither shot at the Panther what was currently ramming their captain. They were enjoying the show.

"I...don't know what to say." Ray said, stifling a chuckle.

Robin laughed.

"Ha Ha! Hey captain, now's not the time for kissing, hm? You _do _know the school has rules against PDA? Mr. Redwood would be very upset at this!"

"Oh my god, is everyone I know a comedian!?" Valarie responded irritated.

"Shoot the bastard!"

At once, the ACIV let loose a shell at the rear of the turret of the Panther, eliminating it from play. Now free, the T-44 backed up.

"Okay." Valarie said calmly.

"Let's regroup with the others."

At another part of the forest, the other vehicles of Mojave Rose moved at a good pace, made even better now that they have found yet another road. The VK took point with the Puma and Cromwell keeping close.

"We'll find a good place and wait for everyone else to catch up." Marielle said.

The road went on and on. However, they soon found it ended in a cul-de-sac. Tall barren hills surrounded this dead-end.

"Well. Not here. Let's turn around and go off-road."

All three turned but then the VK stuttered to a stop.

"What's up Carrie? Everything okay?"

The driver used both her hands in an attempt to shift gears but the lever didn't budge.

"This...thing..won't...move!" Carrie said, strained.

She played with the clutch in every possible way yet the gears refused to shift. Carrie continued to exert force on the gear shifter until finally, she shifted. To neutral. And it was stuck in that gear.

"Uh oh." Carrie uttered.

"What 'uh oh'?" Marielle questioned.

"Something is wrong with the transmission and we're stuck in neutral."

Marielle's heart sank. This is possibly the worst place to have any type of mechanical issue. With the VK being in neutral, the Cromwell pushed it into a corner out of sight but that was all that they could do.

"Relay our position and situation to _Oasis_. She needs to know."

Valarie was holding the receiving in her hand when she released it and let it slam against the inner walls of the turret.

"Full speed northwest. Stop for nothing." she commanded.

The T-44 led the ACIV and IS-3 to a mad dash to their teammates. Unbeknownst to them, three Chaffess were watching them. None fired, instead, they were shadowing them. They knew that they would lead them to the rest of the team, and by extension, the flag tank. The Chaffees kept their distance as they clandestinely followed. Behind them, moving slow but determined, was the T95. Eager to get back in the action.

It wasn't long before Mojave Rose linked up. The situation was tenuous. Their flag tank was pretty much immobilized, it could only move with the help of others. Pushing it for the duration of the match was just absurd. At this cul-de-sac, would be where they make their stand. Valarie examined the local area to see if any advantages can be squeezed out. A curiosity that she noticed was that the hills around here were nearly devoid of vegetation. Anything that was here was just in the early stages of growth. This was in stark contrast to the place there were in earlier in the match, lush with plant life. And it wasn't just this dead end, the road too shared this feature. On one side of the road was a tall hill, sterilized of all life. Here and there were the remains of trees. Just across the road was the complete opposite. There was the picturesque scenery of Klamath National Forest. Why this was the case wasn't some grand mystery. It was the result of another of California's iconic characteristics; the wildfire. During the past summer, flames have ravaged this section of the forest leaving behind the exposed ground.

Valarie got out of her T-44 and had a walkabout. She went and looked at the hill at the side of the road that led into this cul-de-sac. She saw how the rain had made little streams scattered about the hill, all flowing down to the road. This water was incredibly dirty as it carried mud, dirt, and other debris off the hill. Upon closer inspection, Valaire saw that certain sections of the hill were moving little by little. Here and there, rocks have become dislodged and fell onto the road. Her eyes light up and ran toward the IS-3 and climbed on top of it.

"Load high-explosive." she asked.

"Okay...why though?" Ray inquired.

Valarie leaned in and whispered Ray the plan with excitement. A smile appeared on his face.

"Understood."

She hopped off the heavy tank and issued more orders. She had the ACIV and Puma be in front of the VK as a back-up, though desperate plan to protect the flag tank in cause the main plan goes awry. The IS-3 was situated just around the corner, hidden away from the road but ready to quickly enter a firing position. The Cromwell was placed a little distance away from the entrance of the cul-de-sac with explicit instructions to aim the gun _away _ from the road and for its engine to be turned off. Sage objected to this.

"Th-this is insane. We'll get shot for sure!" she said, stuttering with anxiety.

"Don't worry. With how the Cromwell looks, Oceanside will hesitate as they will think you've broken down."

"Yeah, but those Chaffee things will get us then."

"No they won't. The T95 will.

"And that's better how!?"

"As I said, they will hesitate shooting. Just trust me, okay?"

Nerves wracked, Sage remounted her vehicle. She stuffed a pack on gum into her mouth and did what Valarie told. Uncertainty was rife among her crew. They would feel _a lot_ better if their gun was aiming down the road and would be more than happy to not be there at all. but they all decided to go with Valarie. They all waited there, sweating. Sage was looking out her periscope, eyes focused down the road when three Chaffees appeared. Her breathing quickened. They didn't fire. Just parked there.

"We spot a Cromwell...gun not pointed at us. Surely they can see us?" a Chaffee commander asked.

"Engine broken down maybe? I see no exhaust." another commented.

"Possibly. Well...tough luck for them."

"Not one of you tiny tanks touch that Cromwell." the T95 commander said

"Whether it's poor maintenance or poor luck, they will be punished severely. _We'll_ give them something awful."

"Roger."

The Chaffees moved aside and let the T95 drive forward. Sage's heart pounded as she saw this steel behemoth inch closer to her tank with its powerful gun. It parked just 10 meters away from them.

"Take aim, though I will be _really_ surprised if you manage to miss." the commander ordered.

The 105mm aimed directly at the Cromwell. As the shell was being loaded into the breech, the driver made an interesting observation.

"Hey, if the Cromwell really had its engine break down, wouldn't it have the white flag on its roof?"

The T95 commander froze. She realized the horrible mistake that she had just made.

"Now _Juniper_! Now!" Valarie commanded.

The IS-3 moved from its hidden position and into the line of sight of the T95. It fired a shot into the hill beside the tank destroyer. The high-explosive shell dug into the earth a few meters before detonating. The resulting explosion unleashed a torrent of mud, rocks and other debris to flow down the hill at a great speed. This mudslide of grand proportions crashed into the rear of the T95. So great was the force of this impact that the massive vehicle was turned 180 degrees. Sage, seeing the whole thing go down, nearly choked on her gum as she was now presented with the rear of the T95.

"Shoot...back..now!" she exclaimed amid coughs.

Without electrical power, the turret of the Cromwell turned slowly as the gunner had to hand-crank it. All the while, the T95 heaved as it struggled to break free of the mud. Though as it gained maneuverability little by little, it would prove to be not enough. A high-velocity round was sent by the Cromwell and planted itself dead on the rear of the vehicle. An explosion ensued and the beast moved no more. The smoke cleared and among the pile of brown mud flew a white flag.

Oceanside's flag tank has been eliminated from the match.

Sage, no longer a nervous wreck, was filled with jubilation. She informed the team.

"OhMyGod! We did it!"

Cheers erupted as the team knew that this time, it was the real deal. From the prospect of certain defeat, Mojave has snagged another victory and was now that much closer to the national finals. Back at the tents and trailers, Buchanan and Redwood were among the joyous crowd as the news of the victory was announced. Everyone is that tent got off from the bleachers to outside to await the upcoming awards ceremony. Among all the spectators were two girls. The clothing there were wearing were identical, bright blue long sleeve shirts over a dress shirt, whose white collars were exposed. Each were wearing light gray skirts and leggings on the account of the chilly weather. They were not affiliated with Mojave Rose nor Oceanside, but from a different school altogether.

"That was fun, wasn't it? You're still sure about your decision regarding this, uh, Mojave Rose? It's early in the tournament and any other school can...take their place so to speak."

The other girl stood up straight and stretched.

"I'm positive. Call it...my woman's intuition. Though, we'll approach them with our offer at an appropriate time."

"Alright, whatever you say. As long as we go to these matches, I'm on board."

They rejoined the crowd. There was a ceremony to attend.

By the end of the hour, the center of the area has swelled with both spectators and tankers alike. The award ceremony was conducted just as it did with Bascom. After some remarks from the officials, they handed the team the trophy amind the applause and congratulations from the crowd. Once this brief yet overwhelming affair was over, the team returned to their vehicles to look at them one last time before they would be shipped on a train back south. Marielle and her crew looked at their tank.

"Aw, our 'Baby Panther' got a little fussy today, hmm?" Marielle said playfully.

"Say, fixing the transmission is easy right?"  
Buchanan was in the driver's seat inspecting the problem. She then hopped out of the tank.

"Yeah...that'll need replacing." she said.

"Oh...that's not hard though...yeah?" Marielle asked

Buchanan could only give a sympathetic look.

"You girls got a lot of work ahead of you." she explained and walked off.

Marielle, confused, looked upon her phone about the VKs transmission. The more she read, the worse it got.

"Oh god." she repeated.

Replacing the transmission was going to be an effort and a half.

The day had progressed and there was another break in the weather, though this time it seems to be permanent. Mojave Rose was mingling about waiting for the bus. A lone individual the group.

"Which one of you is Valarie Woodlin?" the individual asked.

The group dispersed and Valarie walked forward.

"That would be me."

The visitor went up to her and extended an arm. They shook.

"Name's Samantha, though I prefer Sam. I'm the captain of Oceanside High and the commander of the T95 that ate shit. Now, I got a bit of an ego on me but I will admit...when I'm outplayed."

Valarie smiled.

"Thanks. That mudslide was a spur of the moment thing."

"That's impressive. Quick thinking is essential for commanders, more so for captains."

"Thank you...thank you."

"You know, we were betting on our T95 carrying us to victory in today's match and in the whole tournament. It's a monster, so why not assume that? But really, having a thing like that just means we'll be focused."

"Vehicles like a T95 have their place but relying on a single vehicle is not the greatest of ideas. Tankery is a team sport, after all."

Sam chuckled.

"I guess you're right."

She patted her pockets looking for something and got out a piece of paper.

"I'm not asking to be best friends, but uh, there's no reason we can't talk on occasion."

Valarie accepted the paper and tucked it safely in her pocket.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Sam stood quietly for a moment.

"Well, the only thing I have left to say is goodbye and good luck."

She left, leaving Valarie with the group. Emma walked up to her.

"Are all the captains of the teams going to give you their number?"

"It sure looks like it. Geez. Soon enough I'll have half the country as contacts."

"And uh, these captains want...something like a professional relationship?"

Valarie thought about what she said.

"Something like that."

In her mind, Emma was relieved.

"Um...Valarie. There's been something that I've been meaning to ask you for a while now…"

There was a sudden rush of blood to her cheeks as Valarie stood patiently for Emma to finish her sentence.

"Do you...do you…?" she stammered then stopped.

"No...now's not the right time or place to ask...not how I want it to be."

Valarie stepped up toward Emma and hugged her tightly.

"Ask whenever question you have when you're ready. Above all, I want you to be comfortable."

Emma gave her a look of appreciation. The two remained side-by-side when the bus arrived. When the team boarded the vehicle, the clouds have finally separated and the friendly blue sky has made its appearance. The warm rays of the sun blanketed the area. The storm has made its mark and dispersed. The team was driven back to the motel where everyone was looking forward to a well-deserved rest. At daybreak of Sunday the next day, they would make the return trip back to Barstow. For the remainder of the year 2012, the national tournament will have no more matches until February. All that time the team plans to use wisely. New acquisitions were on the horizon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mojave Rose team tend to their vehicles after their win with Oceanside. With the holiday break upon them, Valarie and her friends decide to spend the day at the arcade. All the while, Redwood and Buchanan seek out possible new acquisitons for the team. With the next match not untill Feburary, the team has a lot of time on their hands.

The Monday following the match was dedicated to repair and maintenance. The 105mm gun of the T95 did a real number on the Stuart and Jagdpanzer IV. Yet work on them paled in comparison to the repair the VK needed. Its crew was huddled around their machine, with Marielle reading a manual. She let out the deepest sigh

"God this is gonna suck...alright let's remove the radio equipment and hull machine gun."

Tools in hand, the VK crew got to work. First, they had to remove the armor plates just above where the radio operator would sit. Then the radios were demounted. Those things weren't the lightest things in the world, they needed two people to haul them out. They were placed against the nearby wall and the machine gun joined them. Marielle looked at the MG34 and the accompanying belts of ammo with a certain wonder. Machine guns were something that was seldom used, if at all, during matches. tankery teams can go through entire tournaments without firing a single round. Others forgo buying belts of ammunition altogether though they will keep the guns in place for aesthetics. At Buchanan's insistence was the team to keep their machine guns locked and loaded. Practice for them was regular.

"A time may come when using your machine guns will come as handy. So, it's better to have them and not need them rather than the other way around."

The laborious task of replacing the VK's transmission continued. Now that the interior of the front hull has been gutted, now came the next step. Mounted on the ceiling of the garage was a crane. It's assistance was required. The old transmission was hooked and pulled out of the machine. As it slowly rose into the air, everyone in the garage saw the massive thing. It didn't take an expert mechanic to see how awful shape it was in. If it didn't fail in the Oceanside match, it was only just a matter of time for it to fail in practice or perhaps even in a match. It was placed aside on the floor. The replacement transmission was craned into position where it was fastened into place. Then everything else was returned to its original place. After the last bolt was tightened, the VK crew sat against their tank covered with grease and exhausted.

"If God is merciful…we won't have to do that again." Marielle said, out of breath

In other areas of the garage, crews had a much easier time tending to their vehicles. For Valarie and her crew, the work was trivial. They were among the first groups to be done and were now talking among themselves. Near the end of Monday's meeting, Buchanan called the team together.

"As we have until February for the next match, we aren't under _too_ much pressure now. Therefore, our weekend practices will now just be on Saturdays."

There was an immediate wave of happiness among the time. Some were already planning what to do with their now free Sundays, Emma among them. Though it is not just Sundays that they are getting free. Winter break was upon them as they were in the last week of the semester. The school has the remainder of the year off and won't return till 7th of January in the new year. The team was dismissed and as people were leaving, Emma went up to Valarie.

"Hey, um, you got any plans for Sunday?" she questioned

"Eh…no clue."

Emma sported a smile.

"Well…do you wanna go to the arcade or something? If you want to go somewhere else…that's okay." Emma asked nervously

Valarie seized on that suggestion.

"No, the arcade is great! It'll be so fun!"

Heather approached them seemingly out of nowhere.

"Can I come too? I can drive us there." she asked quietly.

"Yo, you all going to the arcade? I like retro things, can I come?" Ashley interjected

The four girls were in agreement. A day at the arcade on Sunday.

Buchanan was now alone in the garage as all the students had left. She was taking a look around to see if everything was in good shape. As she was doing this little inspection, she spotted Redwood walk in. He made a beeline toward him.

"What's up?" she greeted cheerfully.

"Hey, I just got off the phone with a woman who says she was some vehicles for us to acquire."

"Oh yeah? What are they?"

"She said she doesn't know. All she told me that there are two of them and are in a decent enough shape to be used."

"Well, I guess we gotta check that out then. When are we going?"

"The woman told me she has some free time Sunday."

"Perfect."

That week was comparatively lax compared to the previous weeks. Instead of meeting in the garage, the team was spending time in Room 34 learning more and to further refine their skills. On a Wednesday evening, Valarie was lounging in her room browsing on her laptop. She was reading tankery news, of course. Now more than ever, as a captain of a tankery team, should she be cognizant of all of the happenings of the tankery world. Valarie, try as she might, just could not resist reading forum threads that discussed the national tournament as Mojave Rose would at the very least get a mention or two. When she skimmed through all the posts, she gathered that the majority of people were skeptical about Mojave Rose's chances of being national champions.

"They got lucky the first two matches, they'll get checked sooner or later." one posted in a pessimistic tone.

"Only rich schools win as they can afford the best gear. That school has a lot going against them." another posted.

"I've bet $500 dollars on them so they better win lol."

As Valarie read on, talk about Mojave Rose petered out. At this point in the tournament, no school dominated the discussion, it was too early to make a reasoned prediction on who will win. She went off the site and went to another that focused on international tankery. On this thread was a thread only three hours old but already grown to ten pages of talk and counting. The title explained everything.

_Ooarai Girl's Academy to shut down despite promise_

"What the fuck?" Valarie said aloud.

She read on and was saddened by what was reported. There herculean effort to save their school was all in vain. Currently, with the latest information available, Ooarai students were in the process of transferring to other schools. All the posters in the thread, tankery fans from all over the world, expressed their shock and anger. Yet it was nothing compared to Japanese tankery fans. Their anger was volcanic. In all the posts Valarie had auto-translated, the words 'betrayal' and 'backstab' were used repeatedly. They were out for blood. After an hour of reading, she put away her computer. She was disheartened by the whole situation. What troubled her the most was that she wanted to help in some way but knew full well that she could nothing, especially with an ocean between her and Japan. With an exhale of breath, she turned off the lights.

December in the Mojave brought with it cold temperatures but snowy days were a complete fantasy. Things like blizzards only happened in other places in the country. Summer was a different matter entirely but that wasn't here and there. In the cool Friday morning hours, Valarie was at school browsing on her phone. Again, she was reading tankery news. She had returned to the internet forums that had informed her of the Ooarai's predicament. There has been a new development. It is now being reported that the school has another opportunity to prevent them from being shut down, this time backed by a legal agreement. They are to participate in a tankery match against Selection University. It will occur Sunday, 8 PM Pacific time.

"Oh man!" Valarie muttered.

The last tankery match she watched was back in October, the Japanese nationals between Korimorimine and Ooarai. Since then, Valarie simply did not have the time to watch matches. Though, actually being in them is an excellent alternative. She will most definitely be watching that match. She was invested in Ooarai's journey. Soon, the bell had rung and Valarie went to her first-period class. She was having this _Déjà vu_ as once again, she was bottling her excitement as she had to power through the school day.

_ **Elsewhere In Boston** _

The city has been lightly dusted with snow, something that the people of Boston were well accustomed too. At Molly Pitcher, the students were enjoying their lunch hour within their indoor cafeteria. Sitting at a table, Penelope and Caroline were having their meals. The uniform for Molly Pitcher students matched its prestige. The top portion was a blazer of exquisite quality, dyed in the darkest black available. Underneath this blazer was the whitest of all dress shirts, collar exposed for all to see. On their neck was a bright crimson tie. For their bottom was a silk skirt the same shade of black as the blazer. Knee-high socks were also part of the uniform, identically colored as the skirt and blazer. The girls were in deep conversation.

"I've received updates from Patton Engineering. Let me tell you, what they sent me is very impressive and exciting."

Penelope shared Caroline her phone which contained a collection of images. As she perused the photos, the more pleased she became.

"My God…it looks good even without the road wheels." she said delightedly

"They are also sending training manuals for the tank. I hope you already have a crew in mind."

"Oh, I do indeed."

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Have you been paying attention to how other schools are doing in the tournament?" Penelope then asked

"Yeah, I have…it's early though. Things can change radically."

"Any schools stick out as of now?"

Caroline thought for a moment.

"You got your usual suspects. They are schools that compete in every tournament. Then they are the newcomers."

"Hmm? Newcomers? Tell me more."

"Well, among these newcomers, there are schools who only did regional matches now making the jump to the nationals. Then there are those that either never had tankery teams before or had them restarted after a long hiatus."

Penelope took a sip of her tea.

"I sure don't envy those newcomers. Matches for them are either bloodbaths or train wrecks. I pity them. I really do."

"Actually, one of these newcomers are doing pretty good. They won the first two matches."

Penelope stopped eating.

"Oh? And who would that be?"

"Some desert school called Mojave Rose in California. They restarted their tankery team after two decades. I found a local article about them while doing a little research on them. Take a look."

Caroline passed her phone to her friend which contained the article in question. Penelope read it closely.

"Fascinating." she commented.

"I got to hand it to them. Getting trained in just a few weeks and winning their first watch is something I respect."

Penelope sat down the phone and slid it back to Caroline.

"You worried about this team?" she asked.

"Hell no. For all we know, they could get obliterated in the next match." Caroline responded.

"Yeah…as you said, things can change rapidly."

Penelope stood up and picked up her school bag.

"Still. Let's keep at least one eye on them."

_Barstow_

_Sunday, December 23rd _

Just shy of 9 AM and Valarie had awoken and gotten herself ready. Practice on the previous day was as tiring as ever and still feeling its effects even after a full night's rest. Now she was on break and there would be no more practice for a while now. This Sunday, instead of just lounging around, Valarie and her friends are off to the arcade for the day.

"They'll be here any minute now, mom. I'll be waiting for them outside."

"Alright have a good time, honey."

Valarie gave her mom a quick hug before heading out the door. Out in front, she looked up and down the road searching for a particular car. Soon, Heather arrived and parked in front of her home. She saw Ashley and Emma withing. She got in.

"Hey! How are y'all?" Valarie greeted.

"Well." Heather responded.

"Tired." Ashley reported.

"Excited!" Emma exclaimed

The car speed off toward its destination. All the while, the girls chatted among themselves.

"So, I've only been to that place only a handful of times, how about you guys?"

Heather and Ashley shared that they never been to the arcade before. For Emma, it was a different story.

"Ooooh…I've been to the place so many times I've lost count! It has all the class games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, Ghosts n' Goblins, Street Fighter, Asteroids…"

Without pause or error, Emma named 20 games at the arcade and her enthusiasm increased as she did.

"…and of course who can forget Donkey Kong? And…!"

"We're here." Heather informed.

Emma grabbed Valarie by the hand and together, they raced into the arcade. Within, Emma pondered over what to play first.

"What are you in the mood for Valarie?" she asked.

Valarie looked at all the arcade cabinets, at all their eye-catching artwork and vivid displays. She was indecisive.

"Um… you know the best games. You choose."

"Alright…hmm…that one! It's two-player!"

Emma led Valarie to one of her many favorites. A firefighting game. In lieu of the classic joystick and buttons, the controller for this game resembled a fire nozzle. The two stood shoulder to shoulder as they battled virtual flames. The arcade was Emma's domain. As much as Valarie knew about tanks, she did about video games, especially the classics. On one day, Valarie would tell her all about Germany's _Entwicklung_ program and the next Emma would share why and how Super Mario Bros. 2 was different in Japan compared to the one released in the U.S.

As they played, Heather and Ashley were wandered the arcade. They too did not know what to play first.

"Man, look at all this old stuff. It's so cool. I'm amazed they all still work." Ashley remarked.

"Hmm. This looks fun. Let's give this a play." Heather said.

The two approached the cabinet. The art of the side displayed two military dudes armed to the teeth shooting at whatever moved. Ashley read the title.

"Contra, eh? I think I know a code for this…"

In another part of town, Redwood was outside his home taking a look at his car. He was checking the tire pressure in preparation for the trip. Where those vehicles were was a few hours drive away. His phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Hello Gabby, I was just about to leave for the place. You the same?"

"Yeah..um. Do you mind picking me up?"

"Sure…is something wrong with your car?"

"No it's…I'm…hungover."

Redwood looked at his phone.

"…really? Kind of a belated celebration for the math don't you think?"

"I wasn't celebrating. Pick me up, _please._"

She ended the call. Redwood finished his checks and drove toward Buchanan's apartment. When he arrived she saw Buchanan leaning against a wall, staring at the ground. He honked the horn to get her attention. She walked up and entered the car.

"Hey." she said, near monotone.

"Hey…" Redwood replied.

The car drove on and soon it was on the interstate. Inside the vehicle, there was a silence. An uneasy silence. Then it was broken.

"Alright Gabby, what's up? Is everything okay with you?"

Buchanan gave Redwood a glance and sank into her seat.

"No. I got another night terror last night. The worst one I ever had. It was so…real. I could feel the heat, Martin, and smell the smoke. The vile…rancid…smoke. It was too much for me. I've had rough wake-ups before but this was on another level. When I was awake, I was in a sweat and my heart was pounding. Then…a whole bunch of all other bad memories flooded in. God…I'm a damn mess."

"So, that hangover…?"

"I handle trauma the way I know how, copious amounts of alcohol. I want to forget that day Martin, and through liquor may be the only way for me to get past this big _fucking_ hurdle in my life."

"The only thing you are going to accomplish is you destroying yourself."

"Then how else can I move on? I told you before I want closure, but how?"

Redwood thought for a few moments and an idea popped into his mind but elected not to share it. He wanted a somewhat calm drive.

"I…don't know, but I will help you the best I can. You're not alone in this."

A soft smile appeared on Buchanan's face.

"I appreciate that…honestly I really do."

More minutes of driving elapsed.

"Say, what were you going to tell me at the motel before you got interrupted by the thunder?'

Buchanan blushed.

"Well…um…you see…it was nothing…but! Ah, it wasn't important…"

Both weren't fooled by Buchanan's answer but Redwood decided not to press her on it. She didn't need the pressure right now.

The four girls at the arcade played a wide variety of games. At every cabinet, Emma shared with Valarie the history behind the game and all sorts of related trivia. Valarie listened intently to every word spoken, genuinely interested. Heather and Ashley then walked up.

"We're out of quarters. Some of these games are hard." Heather said.

"Yup. Made hard on purpose to take every cent of ya." Emma explained.

"Preeety bullshit if you ask me. They're still fun though." Ashley said.

Amidst their discussion, a man walked up to them, who Emma recognized instantly.

"Hello Mr. Ramirez! "

"Emma! I knew I heard your voice. Come with me, I got something to show you and your friends."

The arcade owner led the girls to a section of the place that had been cordoned off. Here was a new game that Emma has yet to play. It was a massive thing, resembling a T-34.

"This arrived last night and I just finished setting up. I know you're on that tankery team, so I figured this would be right up your alley."

The game was a tank simulator, with four spots for players to assume roles of the tank. Though this game did not simulate a tankery match, instead a battle. Specifically, the Battle of Kursk.

"Why don't you girls set the high score? It's on me."

An excited energy existed among them all.

"Alright guys, you know your roles. Ashley, as there is no loader position, you're on the machine guns." Valarie ordered.

Habitually, the girls got into the 'T-34' and started the game. The large screen before them displayed the war-torn Eastern Front. It then transferred to an interior of a T-34-76 and they were thrown into battle. Valarie analyzed the virtual environment. Emma aimed the virtual cannon. Heather drove on virtual terrain and Ashley shot at virtual infantry. Every German panzer they came across was destroyed with ease. Level after level was smashed and they were drowning in points. It was just stupid fun. It wasn't long before they reached the final stage. It was a one-on-one duel. Not with a Tiger, but rather with a Panzer IV Ausf. H

"Those devs dropped the ball. How could they not use the Tiger as the final boss?" Emma criticized.

"Let's just finish this. We haven't lost a single life so far in the whole game!" Ashley exclaimed.

The in-game Panzer IV had its gun barrel covered with kill marks. It's armor was peppered with shots that failed to knock it out. Written on the spaced armor were German inscriptions. None of the girls can read or speak German, though what was written most likely told them to go to hell. Upon the start of the duel, the Panzer IV immediately fired and exploded the ammunition of the T-34. A game over.

"That's not fair! That's not fair!" Ashley yelled.

"Calm down now. We got some lives to burn." Valarie said.

Each and every attempt resulted in a game over. It appeared that the Panzer IV could anticipate what the girls would do and execute a counter. Each duel would start differently as the girls would try different tactics but they would all end in less than 30 seconds.

"This so damn frustrating." Emma remarked.

"We only have one life left." Heather informed.

Valarie thought for a few seconds. She then recalled a memory.

"I got it. Heather, when the duel starts, gun it toward the Panzer IV. Emma will fire a shot at it to bait the thing to fire back. The moment it does, Heather, you will then drift around the thing to get at its rear. Ashley, try to fire your machine gun at the Panzer's gun sight to disorient them. Copy?"

The girls nodded at their commander's instructions and readied themselves. At the press of a button, the duel began. Instantly, Heather slammed on the pedal and the T-34 lurched forward and picked up speed. The Panzer IV remained where it was and its turret aimed at them. Emma fired a shot at the enemy who then returned fire. The very instance Heather saw the flash of the muzzle, she turned the tank hard to the left. Ashley was pumping hundreds of rounds into where the gun sight would be and seemed to work as the Panzer IV did not shoot again. The T-34 then entered into a drift as it began to go around the enemy vehicle. The Panzer IV reacted to the situation and started to turn to face them. The drift put enough strain on the tracks that they snapped, which the game had informed in bright flashing text. But it did not matter. The T-34 rested at the rear of the Panzer IV and Emma let loose a shot. The screen showed a large explosion and smoke. As the view clear, they saw the tank, now a burning wreck. Text then appeared.

"_Congratulations! You are all heroes of the Soviet Union!"_

The girls gave each other high fives and reclined in their seats.

"Finally! This almost feels like winning a real match!" Heather said.

"Dude that was so cool! And to think, we're the first people to beat this game!" Ashley exclaimed

When it came time to input their name for the high score, Valarie typed,

_Oasis… 1,247,700_

"Let's see if anyone beats that!" Ashley boasted

They got out of the game and stretched. They were in there for some time.

"Even though it was just a game, I felt a bit of desperation to win. I can't even imagine how we all will feel in a match when the stakes are really high. Like, imagine we were in a duel with a crew as good as that Panzer IV? Or even better?" Emma said

Valarie's stomach turned.

" I don't even want to _think_ about that. C'mon. Let's play another game."

On a dirt road was a lone vehicle traveling upon it. This road lead to a ranch where a figure stood outside. They could see the dust being kicked up by the approaching vehicle. Soon, it parked in front of the building. Redwood gently shook Buchanan awake from her nap.

"Hey, we're here."

Buchanan rubbed her eyes and the pair got out of the car. Redwood went up to the individual waiting outside, an elderly woman.

"Hello, you must be Mrs. Tudor."

The old woman descended the few steps from her patio to the ground cautiously.

"Yup." she replied

"Hope you two had a pleasant trip."

"Yes ma'am".

Buchanan stepped close to Mrs. Tudor.

"So, you said on the phone you have some vehicles for us but you don't know exactly what they are."

"Yes. I'm counting on ya both to identify them."

Buchanan looked around the property. Save for the ranch, it was barren.

"Well…where are they?"

"Oh, not here." Mrs. Tudor answered.

"At an abandoned mine not too far from here. Come. I'll take you there in my Jeep."

They all piled into the Jeep and Mrs. Tudor drove on a road that became more treacherous as they drove on. The car rattled as it traversed on the poor road, with every part of it shaking. Redwood and Buchanan were holding on for dear life while Mrs. Tudor was in a state of complete tranquility. The drive was only a few minutes but it felt like hours. When they arrived, both were shaken.

"They don't uh, maintain these roads out here huh?" Redwood asked.

"Nope."

Before them was the entrance of a mine shaft. The wood and metal that can be seen were rotted and rusted. It didn't look safe.

"Here, these will help."

Mrs. Tudor passed around flashlights.

"It's safe to go in there, right?" Buchanan asked

"Oh don't be scared. If I can explore that, anyone can." Mrs. Tudor said.

They walked into the mind. The further they walked in, the darker it became. The air became more and more stale. Once they reached a certain point, they all turned on their flashlights. More of the mine could be seen. The supports on the walls and ceilings were in horrible shape, with some bits of them falling off.

"Are there poisonous snakes here? I really don't want to step on one." Redwood questioned.

"Poisonous snakes? No. Venomous? Yes, yes indeed. Watch your feet."

Thankfully for all of them, there was not a snake to be seen in the mines. There was the occasional rat that scurried across the floor, scattering away upon being hit by the light. The ambiance made Buchanan feel weird. She knew that this is just what mines sound like but nonetheless, it produced some uneasy emotions.

"How did you find these vehicles in the first place?" she asked

"I just moved in just a month ago. Only recently did I have the time to really inspect my newly acquired property. When I learned that I had an abandoned mine on my land, I just had to go check it out. I was hoping to find gold, instead, I found steel."

"Cool."

They got deeper within the mines when they then found themselves in a chamber. It was a wide-open space.

"They're in here. Somewhere." Mrs. Tudor said.

They fanned out in search for the vehicles. In the intense darkness, with only the narrow light from the flashlight providing illumination. Buchanan walked slowly as to not crash into any of the vehicles cloaked in the darkness. Her light than shined on some road wheels.

"Bingo! I found one!"

The two joined her. With their light combined, the identity of this vehicle was revealed.

"Jumbo." Buchanan muttered.

"That thing got some armor on them. It'll do nicely." Redwood remarked.

"There's still one more in here. While I know nothing about it, I can say that it's a helluva lot bigger than that thing."

Curious, Redwood and Buchanan resumed the search. It wasn't long before they found what Mrs. Tudor was referring too. It was a massive thing.

"What…is this? It's Russian judging from the paint scheme." Redwood said upon viewing it.

"Man I….wait…it's a little familiar. " Buchanan said.

Buchanan aimed her light at the vehicle's main armament. The cannon was long, extending from a rear superstructure

"This thing has a 152mm gun." Buchanan figured out.

She examined the vehicle further. She walked around the rear and saw that there was a little ladder leading up to a door. Then, it hit her.

"This is not a tank. What we have before us is a SU-14-2. We got ourselves an artillery piece!"

"Wow! Artillery of our very own!" Redwood said excitedly.

"I guess the only question know is why they are here in the first place." Mrs. Tudor said.

Redwood became solemn

"I think I can answer that. 20 years ago tankery in the region suffered…a massive dip in popularity due to an accident. Schools shut down their teams in droves, the vehicles they had either scrapped or sent to junkyards to wither. My guess? The former crews of these vehicles hid them here so that they wouldn't be destroyed.

"Well, whoever they are, I wish we can thank them. Being deep in a mine preserved them in a way. Still, they're gonna need some work to get them fully operational." Buchanan commented.

"Happy to hear you're both satisfied. Now, let's get out of this mine and get right down to business."

The day aged and the sun was on course to sink below the horizon. Outside the arcade, the four girls were adjusting their eyes to the still bright light. The interior of the arcade was dimly lit.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" Emma asked.

The three girls responded positively. A day playing games would wear anyone down so it was time for all of them to head home. They all got into Heather's car and she drove off. Ashley was the first one to be dropped off.

"See you next year guys." she said.

Valarie and Emma sat together in the backseat.

"Would you do this again?" Emma asked

"In a heartbeat." Valarie replied.

Emma leaned against Valarie as the car drove on. The pair nearly dozed off when the car stopped in front of Valarie's home.

"Goodbye you two. Have a good holiday."

Valarie got out of the car and waved at them as they drove away. As she turned to her house, she noticed that the family car was gone.

"Hmm."

Se unlocked the door and entered her home. It was empty. Her parents were gone. She saw a note on the kitchen table. It read,

"Shopping. Be home soon."

Alone, Valarie went to her room and laid on her bed. She rested her eyes. She would fall asleep not too long after.

At an apartment complex, a car pulled up. Redwood and Buchanan remained inside.

"So, that's that huh? Good day, all things considered." Buchanan said.

"Yep. A good day indeed."

"Remember we need 14 more students for the vehicles. Four for the Jumbo, seven for the SU-14."

"Yeah, I'll handle that. I got a list of students who are interested in tankery."

"Great. Thanks for the ride, Martin."

Buchanan got out of the car and so did Redwood.

"Gabby, wait a sec."

She turned toward him.

"If you ever get another one of those night terrors, don't drown yourself in alcohol, okay? Just give me a call. I don't care if it's 3 AM. Just talk to me."

Buchanan walked up to him and hugged. Redwood returned it.

"You're a good person, Martin. I will try to do that.

She entered the complex and into her apartment for some rest.

At Valarie's home, as she slept in her bed, she was awoken by the closing of her front door. She got up and went to investigate and saw her parents.

"Hey honey, was the arcade fun?" her mother asked

"It sure was. How was shopping? What did you guys get?"

"Something special for you." her dad answered, holding up a little case.

Valarie, intrigued, sat down on the couch flanked by her parents. They gave her the case.

"We had to save some money for this. It wasn't cheap nor was the place close." her dad explained.

"But we hope you'll love it." her mom added.

Valarie opened the gift and gasped.

"Oh my god! This is…!"

She grabbed the item from the case and held it in her hands.

"A German throat microphone! Just like the ones the panzer commanders wore!"

"Yup. And that ain't no reproduction. It's the real deal. Made in Germany during the war." her mom said.

"I…love it!" Valarie said amid tears.

Her parents embraced her.

"Try it on, will ya?" her dad asked

Valarie put on the microphone. It fit snugly around her throat.

"You. Look. Fabulous." her mom said.

"Sweetheart, you look badass." her dad commented.

"Thank you. Thank you both so much! I love you."

The hour grew late and Valarie was once again in her bedroom. On her bed, she rests on her side with the bright screen of her laptop glaring at her. The Japanese tankery match was soon to begin. Ooarai was once again fighting for its survival. Prior to tuning in to the stream, Valarie learned a little about Selection University. Their tankery team was lead by a child prodigy by the name of Alice Shimada. If that wasn't enough bad news, Ooarai was also outnumbered 30 tanks to their 8 tanks.

Though this day had a surprise in store.

Exploiting a loophole, Ooarai had an 'emergency transfer'. Students from Saunders, Korimorimine, Anzio, St. Gloriana, Pravda, Chi-Ha-Tan, and Jatkosota High filled Ooarai's ranks to even the playing field. An exciting development.

Eyes fixated on the screen, Valarie watched as the match began in earnest. If Valarie ever held the opinion that the match between Ooarai and Korimorimine was the tensest thing she ever saw, it was dashed as the events on screen unfolded. On one engagement, as the two sides exchanged cannon fire, the ground around Ooarai's tanks then exploded as earth and steel were flung into the air. A few minutes later, another explosion as another section of land was obliterated. This was not the work of artillery, but a mortar.

A siege mortar.

At nearly 5,000 pounds, the Karl-Gerät flung 60cm shells toward very unlucky targets.

"God, what a monster." Valarie muttered.

A machine like that would immensely improve the firepower of Mojave Rose but a crew of 21 just seems a bit too much. Besides, such a thing will surely get focused. So, it wasn't so surprising that the siege mortar was eliminated from play. With the sky no longer a source of danger, Ooarai could focus on the ground. Things were only marginally better. Selection University was still a powerful force.

Who has the biggest gun won't decide the day. It all boils down to the individual skill level of the tank crews. As the hours tick by, casualties mounted. Then, well into the night as Valarie struggled to keep awake, she was snapped out of her daze by the sight of a familiar vehicle.

A T95.

"Never thought I'd see you again so soon." Valarie said softly.

She watched as Ooarai's shells bounced harmlessly off the front of the machine. She never related to a tankery team more than ever before. Like with the match with Oceanside, the T95 discarded its outer tracks to better maneuver in the urban environment. The machine crawled toward Ooarai with other vehicles of Selection University backing it up. Yet the urban setting would prove to be its final destination. As it crossed a bridge, it was taken out from a shot that hit its vulnerable underside.

"That's another way to take 'em out."

Valarie smirked. In her opinion, how Mojave Rose took down Oceanside's T95 was more dramatic. Though, one can assume that Ooarai was not thinking at all about presentation. It was 1 AM when everything came to a head. Maho and Miho Nishizumi, in their Tiger 1 and Panzer IV respectively, faced off against Alice Shimada commanding a Centurion. Two on one but considering the exceptional skill displayed by Shimada, they might as well be on equal footing. Fighting in close proximity, the action was extremely tense. No longer tired, Valarie's breathing slowed.

Then there was a whirlwind of activity.

The Tiger, following right behind the Panzer IV, fired a practice round into its rear which propelled the vehicle forward. Taking advantage of this newfound momentum, the Panzer IV was launched forward toward the Centurion. In a brief window, the tank fired and found its mark. It was all over in seconds.

Ooarai's Girls Academy has seized the day, against all the odds. Valarie had to try very hard to stifle her cheers. She put away her laptop and as she laid in the darkness in her room, she reflected. What Mojave Rose has gone through doesn't hold a candle to what Ooarai had endured. For Valarie and the team, the expedited training put some stress on them but she couldn't even begin to imagine the pressure on them if they had to save their school. If any team deserved some rest and relaxation, it was them. As she drifted to sleep, Valarie hoped that the next time she hears about Ooarai, it will bring her joy rather than dismay.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With new acquisitions come new members to the Mojave Rose Tankery Team. Valaire sets out to ensure that the new arrivials adjust well to the sport. All the while, Redwood is vigilant for upgrades for any existing tanks...and trying to see if he can help Buchanan overcome her truama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Reader. From December 18th to December 28th, I will be on a trip where I will not have access to my computer. Thusly, during that period, there will not be another chapter for next week. I will, however, continue to write the story on paper. I'll have the time to write as I'll have long hours on buses and planes ahead of me. Maybe read the manga too...which I neglected before. To compensate, I will publish two chapters on New Years' week. Have a good holiday!

_Barstow_

_January 7th, 2013_

A new year. A new semester for the students of Mojave Rose. In the early morning hours, before the early bird students made their arrival, Redwood was at the garage inspecting the new vehicles. Over the winter break, they had been transported from the abandoned mine shaft to the garage. Also during that time, Redwood had ordered all the necessary equipment for the Jumbo and SU-14 so that the new crews can immediately familiarize themselves. However, they may be. As of now, those vehicles have no crew to operate. Thankfully, finding students to crew them will not be an issue at all. For weeks, Redwood has students ask him repeatedly when will more space be on the team will be available. And for weeks, Redwood told them the same thing. Soon. Well, soon is now. He departed the garage and headed for his office in the administration building. He had a crew to recruit.

Students began arriving on campus. Some were mingling outside braving the mild winter weather. Yet in one of the buildings in a hallway flanked on either side by classrooms, was a display. Behind the glass was all the achievements the school had earned over the years. Within were two new additions, the trophies the tankery team had won. Students were going out of their way to seem them. Whenever Valarie would walk down that hall when going to class, she would often pause and look at the trophies. She had held them. She knew what they weighed and how they felt. The sunlight from the windows made them glisten. They were polished recently so Valarie could make out her reflection. Inside the display was room for more rewards, the empty space just beside the trophies. Nothing would please her more to see that display filled to the brim.

At her final class of the day, Valarie was reading her textbook when a student from across the room walked over to her.

"Hello, you're Valarie? Captain of the tankery team?"

Valarie set aside her book.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Well, I'd just thought to let you know that my friends and I will be joining the team today."

Valarie found this surprising.

"Oh?" But, we don't have room on the team right now…last I remember

"That's not what Mr. Redwood told me. He found me during lunch and offered the chance to join."

Now _that_ was something Valarie could relate too.

"There must be new vehicles then." Valarie with a tinge of excitement.

"What's your name, by the way."

The girl smiled and extended a hand.

"Jacqueline."

They shook hands. Valarie wined slightly as Jacqueline give a _firm_ handshake, more than she had ever received thus far. Soon after, the dismissal bell rang.

"Let's head to the meeting."

The two girls headed to Room 34. Even just a few minutes after the school day had ended and already was most of the team there, including the new recruits. Valarie and Jacqueline went to their respective groups. With her crew, Valarie conversed.

"What's with the new people?" Emma asked

"Looks like we got some new tanks. Can't wait to see what they are." Valarie responded.

Heather looked at the new crew members. She saw how they were in groups. One with four people, another with seven. The latter is what drew the most curiosity from her.

"_What vehicle needs seven people to use?"_ she questioned internally

She thought about the matter. Ever since joining the team, Heather has been teaching herself all the potential vehicles that the team could encounter. It was still a work-in-progress as it is astounding just how many vehicles were designed during World War II and their more numerous variants. Yet what she did know is that vehicles that have crews as much as seven are not the standard tanks. She shuddered. She didn't want to believe it but knew that it can't be anything else.

"_Fucking artillery." _

Buchanan entered the room not long after.

"Afternoon everyone. Now, unless you need your eyes checked, you will have noticed that we got some new people on board. And new people means new vehicles. Let's head out to the garage."  
The team followed Buchanan to the garage, something utterly routine for them. But for the new crews, the walk was something that sparked excitement among them. They all had seen the garage but never the inside. Now their curiosity was about to be sated, not just for them but for the whole team. Everyone was intrigued to find out what new things were within the garage. When they entered, they saw them immediately. Side by side was the M4A3E2 Sherman Jumbo and SU-14-2 self-propelled gun. The sight of them drew sounds of awe. From the team, Valarie stepped right up to the Jumbo and laid her hands upon it.

"Wow. This thing is bigger than in the pictures."

Buchanan gathered the new crew members and passed around the uniforms and other equipment. After they put them on, Buchanan said,

"Redwood should've told you what vehicles your crewing. So get to them. They'll need a tender woman's touch."

As the new girls walked off, Buchanan noticed Ray and the boys looking on.

"Um…hey it's just some words."

At the T-44, Valarie and her crew were just lounging about. Work on their tank was near non-existent as there were no repairs or maintenance to be done. Staying in a garage over the holidays would do that. They all laid on top of their tank looking around the garage. Their focus was on the SU-14.

"Wow, seven people in one enclosed space? Sounds like my own personal hell." Ashley remarked.

"You claustrophobic?" Valarie inquired.

"Only a little!" Ashley responded

"If I didn't like you guys, I'd enjoy being in the tank a whole let less."

As they talked, Heather remained silent as she stared at the gun of the SU-14-2. It dwarfed the guns on the Bishops that grated against her very soul when they fired upon the team. Anger brewed at just _imagining_ of what it would feel and sound like if a gun of that caliber landed even near the T-44. She took a few breaths.

"_It'll be different. They'll be on our side._" Heather told herself.

Valarie stood up and did a stretch.

"Why don't we see the new crews? See how they're doing."

The T-44 crew jumped off their vehicle and walked toward the SU-14. They saw the new crew exploring the artillery to get a feel for the thing.

"Hey guys, how are you liking your machine?" Valarie asked.

Jacqueline hopped off the vehicle.

"Man, this thing is awesome. A gun like that looks like it can take down a building with ease."

Valarie smiled.

"So, you've already figured out roles?"

"Yep. I'm the commander."

"Cool. What about you guys? Thoughts?"

The other crew stepped forward.

"Whoever heard off…" one began

"…two gunners?" another finished.

"Or two loaders!" a duo said in unison.

"Captain, allow me to introduce the Debs sisters. Amber and Gwen are our gunners and Raven and Abby are our loaders." Jacqueline said.

"All _four_ of you are sisters?" Valarie asked, partly amazed.

"We were all born the same day." Amber explained.

Valarie couldn't believe it. The four sisters looked identical to each other with only their already personalized uniforms the only way to distinguish them apart. For sure will Valarie call the wrong sister the wrong name.

"And then we have Lana, our driver. Her and I are the only people of the crew who aren't related." Jacqueline said.

Lana stepped forward and cracked her knuckles.

"I can already tell that that thing will be slow as hell. But we won't be moving much, are we?"

"Ideally? No." Valarie answered.

"Well, with roles settled, you'll now need a call sign. Gotta be desert related. Vaguely."

The SU-14 crew convened and huddled together. After just one minute, Jacqueline returned with an answer.

"_Sierra_."

"Oh, very nice. Take care now."

Valarie and her crew began their walk toward the Jumbo but Jacqueline happened to get a good look at Ashley. She was awfully familiar to her.

"Hold on just a second."

Jacqueline walked up to Ashley and was snapping her fingers as she tried to remember.

"Did you ever go to…. Stallings Middle School?"

"Maybe."

Jacqueline studied Ashley more, squinting eyes and continued snapping.

"Have you ever participated in a talent show?"

Ashley began to blush.

"Possibly."

"And in this talent show, did you sing and play _John Brown's Body_ on the piano?"

Ashley rose her hands in the arm.

"Guilty as charged."

"I knew it. I knew it was you! You got in trouble over that. One week detention if I remember right."

"Really now?" Valarie remarked.

Emma and Heather could only look as they saw Ashley in a new light.

"Ah, that detention was over a verse. They blew it way out of proportion." Ashley said.

"A verse that you said you _wouldn't_ sing but did anyway." Jacqueline reminded.

"It was just one verse!"

Jacqueline began to mimic marching.

_They'll hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree!_

_They'll hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree!_

_They'll hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree!_

_And they'll go marchin' along!_

She sang the verse that got Ashley in trouble years ago. Ashley was embarrassed but was also surprised that Jacqueline remembered.

"Um…you see I like history so it was important for me to incorporate the original lyrics."

"Sure. Sure. It wasn't totally because the verse about hanging was just cooler. Hey, when I saw you sing and play, I thought you were the best act of the show. Sucks that the middle school blocked you from winning anything."

Ashley blushed even more.

"…thanks."

The T-44 crew departed though Heather remained for just a bit longer.

"I hope you all understand the concept of danger close, if not, you better understand _real_ soon." Heather said, somewhat coldly.

She left to rejoin her crew. Jacqueline watched as she did so.

"Well. Nice to meet you too."

When Heather caught up with her crew, they were badgering Ashley with questions.

"You can sing?" Valarie asked.

"And play the piano?" Emma prodded.

Ashley was annoyed. She felt like she was being interrogated.

"Hey! I'm out of practice in both regards. So back off."

"Alright…alright. We won't ask any more questions about your past life as a performer." Valarie teased.

Ashley shot her a glare before heading toward the Jumbo. Its crew were looking around but Valarie noticed one of the crew was a perplexed expression.

"Overwhelmed?" Valarie asked when she arrived.

The perplexed girl turned.

"No kidding. I got no idea what to do first. What a thing a commander to say, huh?"

"We all feel like that when doing something new. Especially in a sport like this."

The girl paced around a bit and glanced at the Jumbo and back at Valarie.

"Um…can you help? Please?"

"Of course." Valarie said with a warm smile.

She climbed on top of the rear of the Jumbo and began opening hatches.

"Checking the engine is a good first step. Come on up, I'll show you what to look for."

Valarie gave the Jumbo crew a crash course in engine maintenance, which they all listed to intently. As she was talking, she saw that Jumbo commander was doing something with her hands with another girl watching. This made her curious. Afterward, she gave the commander a pair of binoculars

"Just something for commanders. Considering that you are one, you ought to know all the commanders of the team meet regularly for strategy sessions.

"Oh how cool."

The Jumbo commander analyzed the binoculars she was given. She found them interesting and peered through them.

"Did I ever catch your name?" Valarie asked.

"The Jumbo commander slung her binoculars around her neck and put her hands on her hips.

"Haley."

Haley turned around and introduced her crew.

"Danielle drives, Heidi shoots, and Harper loads."

Danielle and Heidi said hello though Harper just gave a friendly wave. Haley then put her arms around Valarie.

"Here's the thing about Harper…she's deaf."

Valarie was taken aback.

"E-excuse me?" she stammered.

"She can't hear a thing. Had it since birth. Don't worry though. I know sign language. Watch this."

Haley got Harper's attention and used her hands to sign the letters 'AP'. Harper immediately went toward a crate and presented an armor-piercing round. At more signals, she retrieved both high-explosive and smoke shells. Valarie was amazed.

"That's so cool!" Valarie exclaimed.

Valarie was delighted that a handicapped individual could still participate in tankery. She absolutely loved the sport and the more people who can join, the better. As she and the crew were about to leave, Valarie had a question to ask.

"Oh by the way, you guys will need-"

"A call sign? It's _Sonora."_

"Huh?"

"We caught on pretty quick that we'd need a call sign. So we figured it out."

"Oh. Great!"

Valarie and her crew returned to their T-44 and rested upon it. After only a few seconds, Valarie jumped off and grabbed something from her bag.

"Almost forgot to show you guys this…"

She withdrew the gift from her parents and put it on.

"Wow, Val, I would never think you'd be into that sort of stuff. Hey…I'm not shaming." Ashley said.

"What? No! It's not that! It's a German throat microphone from World War II."

The girls looked on as Valarie flaunted her new fashion. Emma, in particular, loved how she looked.

"So, how does it work?" she asked.

"It detects the vibrations of a user's throat. Perfect for noisy environments, say, like the inside of a tank."

In another part of the garage, Buchanan was with Jacqueline giving her a tool that no other commander of the team has.

"A stopwatch?" Jacqueline said, confused.

"Yes, a stopwatch. Firing for you will be different compared to the rest of the team. When you do the math for a shot, you'll get a 'time to target' from your numbers. With a stopwatch, you'll track that time accurately."

Jacqueline looked at the watch and saw something that gave away its age.

_Made In West Germany_

"West Germany!?"

"Hey, it still works."

At the press of a button, the stopwatch produced a satisfying tick as it counted the seconds. She put it safely in her pocket.

In the garage office, Redwood was sat behind the desk typing away at the computer. He was multitasking. On one tab was a piece of equipment that caught his eye and was debating on purchasing. On another tab was him trying to find the identities of the former crews of the Jumbo and SU-14. He was no super sleuth as he had no luck. But he will press on. On a third and final tab was something more…secretive. He was trying to find a particular person but kept Buchanan completely in the dark. If she ever found out who he was trying to find, she would _hurt _him. Yet he was determined to take the risk. Hopefully, in the end, it will be worth it. If not….well….he didn't want to think about it. As he worked, he saw a silhouette from the window approaching the door. It was unmistakably Buchanan. He closed his tabs except one. She entered and sat on the chair opposite of Redwood. She reclined.

"Looks like the new crews are adjusting well. I'm very much looking forward to seeing what that SU-14 can do. And I'm interested to see how the deaf girl, Harper, will manage. I'm sure she'll do great, though."

Redwood looked up from his screen.

"That's great to hear. Hey, so, I was just doing some research on the upcoming Phoenix match and found something interesting. Take a look."

He turned the screen toward Buchanan and she liked what she saw.

"A T-44-100 upgrade kit? _That_, I love."

"It is well within our budget. I'm sure Valarie would love the improved firepower and protection. I just wanted your input on the matter."

"I give it a big, fat seal of approval."

Pleased, Redwood placed the order and printed out the purchase confirmation.

"One T-44-100 upgrade kit coming our way."

"Nice! When will it arrive?"

Redwood read the purchase confirmation.

"Ah, by February 11th."

Buchanan's eyes widened

"What? Where is it coming from! The Moon!?"

"From Russia. But it's not just distance. The company selling the kit has to clear with the Russian government to get it out of a surplus warehouse and then modify it to be used in matches. They're selling military hardware, after all. "

Buchanan rubbed her temple.

"So…you're telling me that the company, as of now, does not actually have the kit?"

"No….not yet."

Buchanan stood up and paced around.

"Ah, let me tell you all the contents. There's a 100mm gun, but you'd get that from the name, Haha." Redwood said and gave off a nervous laugh.

"A redesigned turret to house the gun, a 12.7mm heavy machine gun, and some spaced armor. Neat, huh?"

Buchanan got real close to Redwood.

"Martin. If or when the delivery comes and the crate is empty, I will use you spaced armor for the T-44." she said sternly.

He nodded. Buchanan sat back down and looked at the floor.

"Spaced armor?" she said in a now calm tone.

"We'd need a welder for that. We can't have the girls do it themselves, it's too dangerous for them.

"Oh, so you'll do it then?"

Redwood regretted his words the moment he said them. Buchanan stared daggers into his eyes.

"No, Mr. Redwood. I won't."

Redwood sank into his seat. Then an idea came which sparked a smile.

"Has Valarie ever told you about her mother?"

The week was dedicated to getting the news crews up to speed. Valarie shared the playbook among the new commanders. She told them to read it well.

"Soon, you'll both get a chance to add to the book. But you'll need some experience first."

By the start of Saturday's practice, they were already well on their way to being fully comfortable on the team. The team drove the place they had driven many times before, the same area that they first conducted their practice. On the driver on there, it was clear to the team that the IS-3 was no longer the slowest vehicle on the team. That title was now held by the SU-14.

"Not exactly light speed." Jacqueline joked.

The SU-14 drove slowly to the firing position that Buchanan had instructed them to go to. Over the radio, she gave them further instructions.

"Okay, at a location marked on your map is a target five miles away. Aim and prepare to fire."

The SU-14 set to work. Abby grabbed the large projectile and inserted it into the breech. Raven hauled up the propellant charge and place it just behind. With a ramrod, she pushed both deep into the breech.

"Ready!" they both yelled in unison.

Amber and Gwen were putting pencil to paper as they worked out the trajectory. They passed paper to each other repeatedly until they gave each other a nod. They then maneuvered the gun to the correct heading.

"A degree here…" said Amber

"…a degree there." Gwen muttered.

"Target acquired."

With glee, Jacqueline reported over the radio,

"Instructor, target acquired."

Buchanan double-checked that she was wearing hearing protection.

"Fire."

Jacqueline relayed the order and a moment later the relative science of the Mojave was shattered as the 152mm launched a shell into the sky. The smoke that came out of the barrel was greater than any other tank on the team could produce. The very instant it fired, Jacqueline activated her stopwatch.

"Nine seconds to impact!"

The shell had reached its zenith and now pointed down toward the earth. At the target site, the Puma was there. They were to observe and determine if the SU-14 landed an accurate shot. They sat there, waiting for the fireworks.

"Did they miss or-" Aurora began but was interrupted by a thunderous explosion.

The target they were overlooking, a hill, was obliterated. Sand and dirt were flung into the air and showered back onto the surface. All this debris coated the Puma in the Mojave, hearing every ping and patter that hit against the vehicle. Aurora, very much startled, grabbed the radio.

"Instructor. Target hit. Man did it hit…" she reported.

Buchanan was pleased to hear this. The SU-14 was going to be a welcome asset to the team. Just how well it will perform will depend on the crew and whatever strategy the commanders cook up for it. The artillery continued to fire downrange while the rest of the team shot at targets they could actually see. They fired upon the same hill that they first shot at during their first practice. So pummeled was this hill that the team had a name. Crater Hill. If someone were to walk upon that hill and look closely, they'd be able to spot minuscule pieces of metal from exploded ammunition. Though they wouldn't want to stick around for long for there were one or five rounds that have not detonated.

The Jumbo, as was everyone, was lighting up the hill with its long 76mm. After a couple of shots of armor-piercing, Haley tapped Harper on the shoulder and signed the letters 'HE'. Harper instantly grabbed a high-explosive round from the rack and loaded it into the breech. A second later, the gun fired and the empty canister was ejected and fell onto the floor. Haley and Harper looked at each other with satisfaction. Having a deaf loader won't be an issue in the slightest. If anything, it made the Jumbo crew unique among the team, a fact that they enjoyed.

At the conclusion of that day's practice, after the team had returned to the garage and parked their vehicles, Haley and Harper approached Buchanan with a suggestion.

"Miss Buchanan, I've been talking with Harper and she has told me that she thinks the team would benefit from learning morse code."

Buchanan was intrigued

"Morse code huh? Why does she think that?"

"Well, Harper isn't totally new to tankery. She has seen a match or two. And she remembers one in particular where one team intercepted the radio communications of another to gain an advantage. Having more than one way to talk to each other, in case the normal way gets compromised, is a good idea, we think."

Buchanan thought about what the girls suggested and the more she did, the more she liked it.

"Hmm. That is a good idea. I'll set aside some days so we can learn it. Say, what match did Harper see? Tapping a team's radio isn't against the rules, per se, but most, if not all, teams very much look down on it. I feel like I would've heard of this."

Haley turned toward Harper and signed. The two entered into silent conservation. Soon, Haley turned back toward Buchanan.

"She doesn't know the exact details. But she's certain it was a foreign match."

"Foreign? I guess they did things differently overseas. Thanks girls, good to see you're already looking out for the team."

Buchanan departed and the team was dismissed for the day. For the new crews, it was the most exhausted they have felt in their lives. The loaders especially. Their arms were incredibly sore. Abby and Raven were touching their muscles. It hurt but they loved how strong it felt.

"We're gonna be buff as hell by the end of the tournament!" Raven said, all giddy.

At home, Valarie was staying up late. She was sitting on her desk studying the map of the battlefield for the upcoming match. Somewhere near Phoenix was where Mojave Rose would face off against Valentine High School. Being near Phoenix, the match would once again be in a desert environment. Valarie and the team were well accustomed to the desert, but so was Valentine as they were an Arizona based school. She looked at all the geographical features and placed a cross on a spot on the map.

"That'll be good for _Sierra" _she said softly.

She studied the map for a few more minutes. Her eyes were tired and couldn't focus for too long. A sign for her to stop and go to sleep. All of the material was stowed neatly away and put on some sleepwear. The light was turned off and climbed into her comfortable bed. As she drifted to restful slumber, Valarie thought about her family, her friends, the team, and the school. Things were certainly looking up. She fell asleep and savored some sweet dreams.

This would be the last good sleep she'd get for some time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mojave Rose Tankery team begins learning morse code at the suggestion of the new tankers, Haley and Harper. Though, amid all the positivity, one person was about to go through the roughest storm of their life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Hello all,
> 
> Like MacArthur, I have returned and as promised I will push two chapters on New Year's Week. Here's one. It's the shortest chapter I've put out which I apologize for. I usually go for a minimum of 5,000 words but, well, that didn't pan out. You'll get another chapter tomorrow. Enjoy!

_January 14th, 2013_

The following Monday started off like any other day. Valarie awoke, got dressed, packed lunch, and rode the bus with Emma to school. A routine she had down countless times before and something she can do without thinking. The girls conversed with each other with as much enthusiasm as the day they met way back in the second grade. In fact, as their friendship evolved and strengthened, the enthusiasm would only increase. The topic, of course, was tankery. Valarie shared with Emma all the possible strategies she had crafted to be used against Valentine. Emma offered her opinion here and there.

"It's all still a work in progress. Nothing is concrete. Though with the SU-14, I'm positive that where I put it will be great no matter what." Valarie explained.

"You stressed about this match? It's the halfway point in the tournament. The teams we'll be facing will only be better skilled."

Valarie pondered for a moment.

"Truthfully, not super stressed. I'm about as stressed for this match as I would be stressed about a test."

"Hopefully not a chemistry test." Emma teased.

The two girls entered into laughter. After it subsided, they reclined into their seats and relaxed as the bus drove them to school. They then got off and went to their classes. The school day transpired like any other.

In Room 34, the team was just sitting around waiting for their instructor. The room was a cacophony of chatter. With the new tankers, the room was becoming quite snug and as everyone knew that the team would inevitably grow the room will become crowded. That was the future though, an unknown one. It was better to spend their energy focusing on the known future. A few minutes later, Buchanan arrived with Redwood in tow, each carrying boxes.

"Hello everyone." Buchanan greeted.

They both set down boxes on the table at the front of the room.

"Today, we will be learning a new school. In a way, you'll be learning a new language."

She opened the box in front of her and got out a clicker.

"The hell is that?" Ashley asked.

"This…is a more code transmitter." Buchanan revealed.

Redwood passed to each crew member a transmitter. They all studied the thing in their hands.

"Our new tankers, Haley and Harper, suggested that we learned morse code to have an alternative form of communication. I think it was a great idea so we are learning it. Though radio operators and commanders who manage the radio will be the ones transmitting morse code, it's important that everyone knows what is being sent and received."

A majority of the team found what they were doing fascinating, especially Heather, who was totally captivated. Ashley was the least enthusiastic of the team.

"Really? We're gonna send telegrams to each other? Like this isn't a joke?" she complained

"I thought you liked retro things." Valarie questioned

"The line between retro and old trash is a firm one and it got passed."

"Well…you don't have a choice now, do you?"

Ashley sighed and looked at the paper that was also passed around. It was a beginner's guide to morse code. She set it aside. After a few moments of staring at the ceiling, she grabbed both the paper and the transmitter.

"Fine."

The team spent the meeting learning morse code. They wouldn't master this manner of communication on the first day. But, with regular practice, they'll be adept users having an edge over teams who don't know about the dits and dashes. The possibilities with morse code seemed endless and the commanders were eager to how to implement it in their strategies. The tankery meeting transpired like any other day.

At its conclusion, the team set out for home. Valarie said her goodbyes and went to her bike which, to her great delight, was not taken away for being left over the weekend. A perk for being on the tankery team or was it just luck? It didn't matter to Valarie as she biked her way home. The lateness of the day meant that it was already getting dark. The weather was cool and the occasional breeze chilled Valarie as it hit her exposed skin. She peddled a bit faster to get home sooner so that she can just plop right into bed. She arrived minutes later and stowed her bike away. When she entered her home, she was surprised to see that her dad was there. This perplexed her as she would have surely seen her dad's truck parked in its usual place. But it wasn't.

Valarie's parents were sat at the kitchen table, hands holding the other. They were waiting for her to return home. Valarie was becoming anxious. This was not normal.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked nervously.

"No. You're not." her mother said.

The tone of her voice hinted to Valarie that she had been crying before she got home. Her anxiety grew.

"But we have something very important to tell you." her dad said.

"Please, sweetheart, take a seat."  
Monday was no longer like any other day.

_The Following Day_

Emma awoke early in the morning hours. Unlike Valarie, she had no trouble at all being an early bird. She was staring at herself in the mirror as she braided her hair. On the rare occasions that Valarie did not talk about tanks, she had told Emma of her love of braided hair. Emma has spent some time learning how to do it and was now ready to put theory into action. She carefully managed her hair as it was put into a braid. At the end of it, she had something to be proud of .

"She's going to love this. And one day…I'll ask her…to be my…" her voice trailed.

Even alone talking to herself, Emma didn't have the courage to ask the full question. If not alone, then how in the world can she ask Valarie?

"Coward." she told herself.

She didn't be hard on herself for too long. Emma finished getting ready and walked out to the bus stop. It was a cloudy day but the wind has vanished. The day was still and eerily so. She looked down the street and saw the familiar yellow school bus. At it arrived and Emma boarded, she looked toward the rear and saw Valarie sitting at their usual spots. Yet, something was off. She was absentmindedly looking out the window and only faintly notice Emma when she sat down beside her.

"Oh hey." Valarie said.

There was exhaustion in her voice mixed with worry. Emma was now concerned.

"Are you okay?" Emma questioned.

Valarie's hair was not fully managed. It looked like the only thing she did was splash water on it to do the bare minimum of care. There was also redness in her eyes.

"I think I'm stressed about the match after all. I couldn't sleep last night." Valarie answered.

What she said wasn't convincing. Something more was up. But Valarie didn't seem to be in the state to be asked further questions.

"Okay then…"

The bus ride was silent. As they were dropped off they went to their respective classes. Emma turned and looked at how Valarie walked. No personality at all. It was a dead walk, purely mechanical. Alarmed, she got out her phone and texted Heather and Ashley.

"Guys, I think Valarie is going through something bad. When you see her, see how she behaves but don't ask her directly. I don't think she'd like that at all."

Emma out away her phone and headed to her class, mind totally occupied.

In her first class of the day, Heather read the text Emma had sent her. As Valarie entered the room and sat the desk right next to her, she was unsure how to proceed. She noticed how Valarie was silent at her desk and unmoving.

"Hello Valarie…um…good day today huh?"

Valarie turned and gave a weak smile.

"Yeah, it is a good day." she lied

Heather eyed her with skepticism.

"A little. Real tired today."

"Hmm. Alright. Feel better soon."

Class began and the opportunity for talk diminished. Heather would just have to wait for the meeting later today to possible know what is really going on.

Later on in the day, Ashley was waiting for Valarie in their chemistry class. Emma's text has put her on alert. She was dead curious on what was troubling her. When she finally arrived and took her seat, Ashley walked over.

"Val. What's up girl? Anything new?"

Valarie was tapping her foot repeatedly

"Nothing new. Everything is normal. NormalNormalNormal."

"Uh-huh… you look real tired today."

"I watched TV all last night. My favorite show had a marathon."

"Really? What show?"

"Friends.

Ashley looked at Valarie for a bit longer.

"Oh, I bet that was fun. I guess."

She returned to her seat but Ashley continued to look at Valarie. Emma was right. Something was definitely up. Her curiosity skyrocketed.

At that day's tankery meeting, the team was at the garage. Heather, Ashley, and Emma congregated at the T-44. Valarie had not yet arrived which was highly unusual. In any of the previous meetings, Valarie was consistently on time and often one of the first people to arrive. Now, the meeting was well underway and she was yet to be seen.

"So what did Valarie tell you guys?" Emma asked.

"She said she was sick." Heather informed

"She told me she was watching TV all night." Ashley shared.

Emma just looked at the conflicting responses.

"She lied to us."

A shocking revelation. None of the girls would ever conceive Valarie as a liar. It just didn't fit her personality. The fact that she did told them all that something was wrong. Very wrong. It was then Valarie had come into the garage. The three girls looked on as she approached.

"Sorry I'm late. I had to finish some quiz. Let's uh…get to work."

She climbed on top of the T-44 and opened the engine deck.

"Valarie. The tank doesn't need engine maintenance today." Heather said.

"Well, …it doesn't hurt to double-check."

"Valarie. I know your last class. I know that only gives quizzes on Fridays."

"It was a surprise quiz."

"The whole school knows that she doesn't do that."

Valarie just stood on top of the tank. She was breathing a bit faster.

"Let's go inside the tank for a talk. All of us." Emma said

Slowly, Valarie entered the vehicle, trembling as she did. Once inside, they closed the hatches.

"Valarie, we all know something is bothering you." Emma said.

"I'm fine. Honest."

No one was convinced.

"You lied to us. You told me you were stressed about the match."

"You told me you were sick.

"And you said you were watching Friends! No one likes Friends!"

Valarie glanced at all her crew and nervously cracked her knuckles.

"You didn't have to lie to us. We're your friends." Emma said

This broke her. Valarie started crying as her friends watched, uncomfortable and concerned. They asked questions her questions but Valarie could only provide tears. Emma pulled her in closer and caressed her. She stroked her hair as Valarie regained her composure.

"Now, what is wrong?" Emma asked gently.

_The Previous Evening_

Valarie sat at the kitchen table at the opposite end of her parents. They explained the situation at hand.

"I lost my job." her dad said flat out.

Valarie ran cold.

"The company got bought out. That was a while ago but only now has the process really got underway. Me and some other truckers got dealt a bad hand and got the ax. We were the _most_ experienced but… "

He stopped himself on going on a rant.

"Anyway, that's where we are right now. But don't worry. Your mom will take some extra shifts at the welding shop to tide us over until I get a new job. You just focus on school and on the team. We just want you to know what's up."

Valarie couldn't form a sentence at first. Then, she managed to get some words out.

"Okay. Um. I'm just going to my room now. I'm tired."

She stood up and walked off. Once she was out of sight, her parents talked a bit more.

"You know even with those shifts I just don't bring in enough money. I'll do them…but…"

"I know but Valarie can't. She doesn't need this stress right now."

"I know."

Husband and wife held each other as they thought about the great uncertainty about the future. But protect her they did not. She was just around the corner and heard every word they said.

She was terrified.

_Present Day_

Valarie has stopped sobbing. Her friends looked on, shocked over what their commander has told them.

"Val…man…that fucking sucks." Ashley remarked.

"We should tell Mr. Redwood, maybe he can-" Emma began

"No!" interrupted Valarie.

"Tell no one else! Everything will be fine! My dad will get a new job and everything will go back to normal! He will! He will!"

There was a denial in her voice.

"Promise me this you guys. Tell. No. One."

Reluctantly, they promised not to share what they heard. The meeting that day progressed with the T-44 crew pretending nothing was awry. Valarie had to act the most to convince everyone that things were great. Internally, she had no idea how long she could maintain this facade. When the team was dismissed for the day, Emma gave Valarie a warm embrace and so did Heather and Ashley. She was happy to have a great group of friends but it was short-lived as her thoughts dwelled on the future.

_Two Weeks Later_

Whenever Valarie would see her mother, she was either asleep or was just about too. On some days, she wouldn't see her at all. She was working around the clock. When not working, she was sleeping. Weekends were worked too to gain every last dollar. Her dad around this time had dedicated himself to finding new employment. He tried, Lord, he did. But nothing. Any jobs available didn't pay enough like his last trucking job. He didn't just want his family to just survive, but to thrive. So it was paramount he found something that paid well. Yet anything nearby that did pay well-demanded applicants has higher education. Something he did not possess. Having only one car made things difficult. Her mom needed her for her work so he walked around for his search. He would often walk miles to a place only to find out he did not meet the requirements. Both of her parents were dead tired and frustrated. Nonetheless, they maintained an aura of optimism for the sake of her daughter.

Valarie had once suggested she get a work permit so she can find a job of her own and help out. Her parents forbade it.

"You getting a job means quitting tankery. You can't do both, you physically can't! Stay on the team. You love the sport and lead them this far. Don't stop now." her mother told her.

Valarie felt utterly helpless. The biggest crisis that befalls on her family and she can't do a damn thing about it. Night after night, she would cry herself to sleep. Day after day, her friends would ask if things are getting better and Valarie would say yes. But they all knew it was a lie.

During one of the meetings, Emma managed to find Buchanan alone.

"Miss Buchanan, does your job as a tankery instructor necessarily mean you only do things related to the sport?"

Buchanan has never received a question like this. She found it very odd.

"Um…I don't understand the question."

"Is it part of your job to care about the general well-being of the team beyond tankery?"

Buchanan was puzzled.

"Well, I do care about this team but something like that is more 's forte. Is someone having trouble at home or something?"

Emma nearly admitted it but stopped herself. She couldn't break a promise, especially one to Valarie.

"No. I was just curious. Thanks."

She walked off. Buchanan eyed her with suspicion. Someone wouldn't ask a question like that for the sake of curiosity. Someone on the team was going through a rough patch in life. But who?

_Later_

That evening, Valarie was alone at her home. Her mom was working and her dad acquised and started doing some odd jobs. It brought it some extra cash but it wasn't a sufficient replacement. Valarie had fixed herself a very simple instant noodle soup and ate alone in her room. On her desk was the playbook, something she hasn't opened in weeks. She had totally lost her focus. Whenever the team had their commander's meeting, Ray would take charge. His performance comforted Valarie. He spoke clearly and always had an agenda that he was set on following. He even had some good ideas when it came to the strategy for the upcoming match. But a captain of a tankery team only saying a few words was noticeable. All the commanders wondered what was up with Valarie.

In her room, she sat on her bed. She was in her sleepwear but would not consider herself comfortable in any sense of the word. It's been a while since she ready anything tankery related news but her mind just wasn't in the right place for that. When Buchanan offered her the position of team captain, she accepted it, she doubts she is currently able to perform the job well. Among her many worries, she feared that all the stress would impact the performance of the team. A hesitated or bad order can lead to causalities or even a loss. Maybe someone else ought to take the position… someone who can really focus while she just deals with her problems…

_No._

She can't disappoint the team, her parents, and above her, herself. She told herself the same thing she told Buchanan.

"I will not let anyone down."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all gone to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again,
> 
> This is the second chapter this week, as promised. Starting next week the schedule will return to normal with one chapter a week. We're not at the halfway point. Not by a long shot.
> 
> Enjoy!

Her parents toiled. They worked grueling hours away from their daughter who they cherish. This was all for her, all the sacrifice. They were determined that Valarie would only need to focus on school and tankery. To get opportunities to succeed and do better than them. For the rest of January, they would work relentlessly and be perpetually exhausted. Even when the bills piled on they still had this positivity that acted as a stalwart against Valarie being totally despondent. Yet even with all the actions they have undertaken to just stay afloat, it would prove to be overwhelming and ultimately in vain.

First, their water was cut.

Then the power.

And worse was still to come.

On the 4th of February, as Valarie returned from school, she noticed something on the door that wasn't there when she first left in the morning. Something that her family dreaded.

_Notice Of Seizure _

_The owner of this property has fallen behind on mortgage payments._

_It has been subsequently seized by the Bank of America_

_Former Occupants have 24 hours to claim belongings prior to eviction_

One missed payment. One. That is was all that was needed for her family to lose their home. Upon reading this notice, Valarie couldn't feel a thing. She simply sat down and waited for one of her parents to return. Her dad returned first as his odd jobs gave him irregular hours. When he saw Valarie just sitting outside, he immediately knew something was amiss ran toward her.

"Valarie? Why are you outside?"

She pointed at the door. Her dad went up to it and read the notice. Stunned, he just stood there for a solid minute before moving again. He sat beside Valarie and hugged her.

"We gotta be strong now, more than ever." he comforted.

Valarie couldn't manage to shed a single tear. Physically unable too. She had already cried so much before and now, when everything has culminated for the worst, could only stare at the ground.

"C'mon, Let's gather our things."

They entered what was their home and got together all of their belongs that could fit in anything they could find. Old backpacks, suitcases, duffel bags, anything that can hold was filled to capacity. When her mother arrived, the expression on her face informed them that she too had read the notice. Together, they packed up as much of their belongings as they could and stored them in the car. It was a silent affair and produced strong emotions. Knowing that you may possibly never go back to a place you've called home for years, for Valarie her entire life, was a horrendous feeling. Valarie ensured that when packing away her things that her tankery tapes were chiefly among them. She no longer had any means of playing them but they provided some comfort. She'll need every little ounce of it. Once the car was absolutely filled, they all entered and drove away. They spent some time driving around, almost aimlessly. Soon, they found a place where they can stay for the night. A 24/7 parking lot. The car was turned off and they tried to go to sleep. Valarie's parents would glance at her to see how she was taking the situation. What concerned them was the blank expression on her face. No signs of distress or any tears. Just staring out the window. They wondered what she was thinking. Out of all the theories they created, they would never have figured that Valarie wasn't thinking about anything. They soon managed to go to sleep, though Valarie remained awake. Still looking out the window and motionless. Her mind was devoid of thought as it was unable to process what had just happened. Though doing nothing too took energy. Eventually, sheer exhaustion overtook her.

And just like that, they were homeless.

The family pressed on. It was the only thing they can do. As the sun rose the next day, her parents returned to their jobs. They weren't totally insolvent. They made enough money to afford the car and keep it filled with gas. They had that going for them at least. Valarie went to school and the whole family did their best to hide the fact they were homeless. An act that would only be more difficult to pull off as time wore on. Supplies of clean clothes and other necessities were limited though they would cross that bridge when they come to it. A bridge that was not very far.

On the odd days when they were all together, they focused on positive conversation. Tried to anyway. Valarie brought up an issue that needed attention.

"My instructor told me, again, to wash my uniform, When she got close to me she says there's this 'odor'"

Her mother grabbed her uniform and sniffed it. She had a confused expression.

"It smells like a garage. But that's normal."

Valarie made the realization.

"Oh. I see. It's me."

Ashamed, she put her head into her hands. Her mother gave her a piece of soap and said no more. The soap was the last one on hand and it was only marginally bigger than the palm of Valarie's hand. Better than nothing. How quickly things like soap ran out surprised them. Keeping cleaning was becoming a luxury, something none of them could have conceived to be a reality. But here they were living it.

One day, during a lunch period at school, Emma and Valarie were sat together underneath the tree that has become their regular spot. They were conversing about their classes up until Emma made an observation.

"I've noticed that recently you've stopped eating lunch."

"I'm just not hungry. You know that I don't have big lunches."  
"But you always bring something to eat."

Valarie glanced at her and back on the ground.

"Well…I'm on a diet."

"You're a healthy weight."  
"How do you know? Am I sitting on a scale right now?"

"Valarie, I know you better than anyone else on this planet. I know when you're healthy and when you're not."

_You don't know everything. Thankfully. God, if you found out, you'd be hysterical. _

Emma rummaged through her bag.

"Here. My mom put in an extra sandwich to use up all fresh ingredients."

"I'm good. Thanks."

"Are you sure?"

Valarie eyed the sandwich. It looked superb and colorful.

"…alright. I'll take it."

They ate together. In the ensuring lunch periods, Emma always seemed to have something extra to hand to Valarie. She was deeply appreciative of this even though Valarie would temper her emotions as to not appear too enthusiastic to receive the food as to not tip off to Emma that her situation has worsened. She didn't want a single person to know that her family has lost their home. She didn't want anyone on the team to worry over her and instead just focus on the tournament. And if Emma knew? If Valarie never has been her freak out before she _will_ if Emma became aware of everything. For everyone's sake, this masquerade had to continue. At least, that is what Valarie believes is the right thing to.

During the week, during a meeting, Valarie and her crew were tending to the T-44. As they were working, Redwood approached.

"Hello Valarie. Your mom is a welder if I remember right."

She nodded.

"Perfect. You see, the team will soon get some kit that needs a welder to install. Would your mother be willing to help? She'll be paid of course."

Redwood showed a check to Valarie. It read $3,000. She became ecstatic

"I'll tell her!"

"Great. Just have her come by around Monday's meeting."

At the end of the day, Valarie shared the good news with her mom who was more than happy to help her daughter's team and score some cash at the same time. The evening, once the family was together, the mood was good. Considering the circumstances. They may be homeless but had some spending money at their disposal. Her dad had gotten some fast food, the cheapest items off the menu. Valarie had always viewed fast food as a treat with her mother always making something healthy. Now, fast food has become a part of their diets. If this were to continue, a whole host of new problems would plague them. As they were eating, Valarie happened to glance at the throat microphone that her parents have gifted her. Those things weren't cheap with some models costing several hundred dollars.

She felt a tinge of guilt. Would that money have made the situation completely different? Reality says no but she couldn't shake off this bad feeling. Selling it, in the near mint condition that it was in, would be a nice cash injection. Yet Valarie would not even propose the idea as her parents would shoot it down faster than any of the most advanced anti-aircraft systems. For the Woodlin family at large, regardless of who they are or where they live, all of them have one thing in common.

Gifts are _never_ sold.

No matter how dire the circumstances are, if your last name is Woodlin, you will not sell gifts. Even if the gift giver was perfectly okay with their gift being sold, it simply will not be done. The reason was more than it was just rude. A person has spent their time and money looking for a gift curated for their particular interests. Even if the gift was gotten on a whim, it meant that at the very least the giver thought of finished her good and stowed her gift in a safe place. Her parents had too finished eating and were reclining in the front seats. She could feel how tired they were. She thought to herself how to bring in some joy, even only briefly. Morale is important, as Buchanan had told the team. But how? She looked around the interior of the car and spotted her playbook.

Of course. The match.

She grabbed it and flipped to the latest pages, looking at the map of the next match. A victory would be a huge spirit booster but the team just couldn't win. It had to be a _crushing_ victory. Pen in hand and light in the car on, she set to work. Building upon what Ray had started, Valarie spent that night crafting strategy. Within her was an intense determination and other emotions. No matter how much she tried to hide it she was bitter, frustrated, and angry. These negative emotions influenced show she formulated strategy. The more work that was done, the more serious she became. By the end of it, Valentine had become a sort of scapegoat for all the troubles her family had endured. The match was to be Valarie's outlet for her anger and frustrations. Was this a healthy way to process her emotions? She didn't know nor did she currently care. Valentine High School was going to be her punching bag. Whether a plan born of bitterness and frustration was a good one was something time only could tell.

_Friday_

Katherine Woodlin pulled up the car next to a gas pump. Gas was something they can still thankfully afford. She got out of the car and selected the cheapest gas and began refueling. She looked inside the car and saw her daughter asleep, leaning against just one of the many bags containing their belongings. Her husband was gone, already left for another odd job at an incredibly early hour. Her eyes then drifted around and rested upon the convenience store attached to the gas station On the window was an advertisement for cigarettes.

Smoking.

Katherine inhaled sharply and let out a deep breath. The temptation to go in and buy a pack of cigarettes was there, even after 16 years. She remembered, slightly embarrassed, on how she used to smoke a pack a day. She got this habit when she first started as a welder. Being such a male-dominated environment, she wanted to fit in and 'be one of the boys.' The best way to fit it then was to smoke. She finds it funny now that when she had this mentality, it led to her meeting her future husband who has never smoked in his life. As she in thought, another memory popped up. The time when she first found out she was pregnant. It was quite the experience. Valarie was a 'surprise' child. Katherine's husband, Preston, had fertility issues. He remembered one day a doctor told him the chances of bearing children was "less than zero". With this information in mind, whenever the couple got 'intimate', contraceptives were not used. It wasn't required, they thought. And for the longest time, it wasn't. So, when one day, Katherine awoke sicker than she has ever felt in her life she didn't assume that she was pregnant, instead, she thought she caught some nasty flu. But as the weeks went by and she was still 'sick' and was now noticeably gaining weight, the couple decided to take a pregnancy test. In their bathroom, Katherine stood and waited for the result. The moment she saw a plus symbol, she screamed. She ran out of the bathroom and gave her husband a huge hug. Though this happiness was replaced with horror.

"Oh my God! I was fucking smoking the whole time!"

That very day, Katherine threw away her cigarettes and stopped smoking. This sudden withdraw made pregnancy nightmarish, made even worse as Katherine was petrified that her smoking has given Valarie, then unborn, some health defect. On April 16th, 1997, Valarie Woodlin was born and to her parent's intense relief was a perfectly healthy baby. Having a child was a dream of theirs something that they thought wouldn't be realized due to fertility issues. But here Valarie was, in their arms.

Now, 16 years later, there was their daughter. Homeless. She felt like she failed her though no one in the family could be blamed for this. They were dealt one hell of a bad hand. Though Valarie's father felt that he was responsible for all of this, really, what can one do when the boss hands them a pink slip?

Nothing.

Especially when it was something out of their control. Katherine removed the nozzle from the car and re-entered the car. In just a few short hours she would have to be at work. Before that, she would have to drop off Valarie off at a 24/7 coffee shop so that she just wouldn't wait for school to start outside. This couldn't be how Valarie spends the rest of her time in Mojave Rose. Katherine and Preston were determined that their daughter, at the very least, sleep on a bed.

_Saturday_

Another one of the team's practices was underway and Valarie was as reinvigorated as ever. Her energy and passion have returned. Some of it, anyway. This has comforted her friends but from the way she walked and talked, they can still tell something was still distressing her. Yet, when asked, she'd always say everything was okay.

The SU-14 crew has made remarkable progress. They had already developed a synergy though it helps when four of the six crew are sisters. Being artillery, their rate of fire was never going to be spectacular but they managed to fire at nearly two rounds a minute. A statistic that Buchanan was satisfied with though the crew was obsessed with getting two shots out in under a minute. The Jumbo was doing excellent as well. Their rate of fire was admirable. So much so that no one would've guessed that its loader was deaf. Now, with both of them integrating well with the team, they were eager for next weeks match to show off what they have learned.

During a break in the practice Natalie, commander of the Jagdpanzer IV, was resting on the top of her vehicle. Being a 'flatpanzer', laying on it was comfortable compared to the rest of the tanks. The rest of her crew were outside doing some stretches as the inside of that tank destroyer became cramped when all four girls were within. As they enjoyed her break, the sound of an approaching vehicle filled the air. The IS-3 drove past them with Ray, out of his hatch, waving at them. Natalie returned the wave in kind just before they drove out of view. When Natalie first saw Ray and his friends, she was staunchly against them participating in tankery. It was a girl's sport after all. Don't men have a dozen other spots to join?

That was her thoughts then. Not now.

She watched the boys much like how a hawk searches for prey. But none has done anything that irked her. They were genuine in their participation in the sport. Perhaps she was too rash…too judgmental. Does she view Ray and his crew as friends? No. Not yet. As teammates? Of course. Natalie will remain to keep a watchful eye but will be more lax about. When she told Valarie that she hoped Ray will prosper as the co-captain, she was genuine about that. She didn't hope for him to do something wrong or fail. For one, Ray failing would negatively impact the team. Second, hoping for someone to fail or to do something bad put a sour taste in her mouth. It went against her character and she had to step back and reflect on who she was. A part of her believes she should apologize to Ray and his crew over her hostility toward them when the team first got started. She wrestled with this thought for some time but never acted upon it. Was it too far gone for an apology and actually doing it would just make things awkward? Or is it never too late to apologize? She sighed. Natalie will just watch the boys and see if their actions will cement her choice.

_Sunday_

The Barstow Homeless Shelter has housed its fair share of people. Its director has seen it all and has been running the place for decades. But it hurts him just as much when he first started when he saw new faces, a family no less. The man walked up to the front desk.

"You have space for the evening?"

The director looked through his books.

"Yes. Just the three of you?"

The man nodded.

"Okay. Follow me. I'll lead you to your beds."

The director led the family into a large hall filled with beds. Currently, the shelter wasn't too populated so the family had a little corner of their own.

"Just get yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be served in an hour or so."

The director left and the family got themselves situated. Valarie set down her things and laid on the bed, a sensation that she sorely missed. The Woodlin family for a few minutes before Valarie had towels and some clean clothes laid on her.

"They have a shower here. Go get freshened up before dinner." her mother asked.

Valarie got up and left for the showers. Her parents resumed relaxing when a young volunteer walked up to them.

"Sir? Ma'am? Would you like some blankets?"

"Yes please."

The volunteer passed out some blankets and some other welcome necessities. Once they were nice and taken care of, the volunteer returned to the director.

"I've taken care of the new arrivals, as you asked."

"Thank you, Marielle. You're a huge help." the director said warmly.

He got out a pen and signed Marielle's volunteer sheet. For one of her classes gave extra credit for volunteer work and with the homeless shelter so close to her home, it was a no brainer. Helping those in need was one of her great joys.

"See you next Sunday, Marielle."

Marielle left but not before heading to the bathroom. Inside she was checking herself out in the mirror and grooming when necessary. Behind her, one of the shower stalls opened. Marielle averted her gaze toward the sink so that she wouldn't see the reflection of whoever just got out of the shower. The person who departed the shower was draped with towels and carrying a bag of clothes. Marielle's curiosity soon got the best of her and took a peak. It must be one of the new arrivals, the director said it was a family of three. Maybe this person needed some help getting adjusted. When Marielle's eyes laid upon the individual, she froze.

It was her captain.

Utterly stunned, Marielle could only move her eyes as she watched Valarie leave the bathroom. She stood still for a few more seconds before forcing herself to move. Valarie was homeless?! She figured she was going through a rough patch but would never imagine things were this bad.

"Oh my God. And you haven't said a thing to the team." she muttered.

She left the bathroom and peered into the large hall. There she saw Valarie with her parents, the two people she had just helped minutes before. That was enough for her. It was one thing to see a stranger homeless. But to see someone you know in the same situation elicited another feeling entirely. She walked out of the shelter in a way not to cause a scene. When she was outside, she bolted for home. Who would she tell? Someone has to know. But would Valarie appreciate this? The fact that she hasn't told anyone about this meant that she wanted to keep this under wraps. But Marielle just couldn't ignore what she saw. Telling Mr. Redwood was an option…but she wasn't sure. Her mind then thought of Valarie's crew. Do they now? This indecisiveness on who to tell gripped her the entire sprint back home. When she arrived, she pretended that everything was great and that it was just another day at the shelter. In her room, she remained unsure. Then it all went away. Marielle knew, hell the whole team does, that Emma was Valarie's best friend for years. If anyone had to know, it had to be her. Marielle would seek her out, alone, come Monday.

The truth will come out. It always does.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out. As it always does.

_Monday, February 11th, 2013_

Redwood and Buchanan were at the garage in the early morning hours. Before them was a collection of crates, some of which were huge. Buchanan handed Redwood a crowbar.

"Bust 'em open. Please."

Redwood went to the nearest crate which happened to be the longest. Using considerable force he opened it. They both looked inside and put on smiles. Within was a brand new 100mm LB-1 main cannon.

"Well Martin, it looks like you won't be spaced armor."

The pair set to work and opened the rest of the crates. The gun, the new turret to accommodate the cannon, spaced armor and associated parts, and a 12.7mm machine gun which would be mounted on the top of the new turret. Everything was nice, organized, and ready for installation for that day's tankery meeting. It'll be a laborious one for Valarie's crew. As Buchanan was looking at the new gear, Redwood was reading the manual that came with the delivery.

"Thanks for your purchase…tools not included…for ages 13 and up. Ah, interesting little tidbit. This manual says to expect the fighting compartment for commander, gunner, and loader to less spacious on the account of the gun."

"The girls will manage no problem." Buchanan said.

"Sure. They'll do fine. To go on a related tangent…will that machine-gun really be useful? To use it one of the girls will have to be out of the hatch."

Buchanan looked at the heavy machine gun. It was intimidating in appearance and most definitely sounded fearsome when it fired.

"Maybe…well…" she started but stopped

"Okay, it won't be all that useful. In all situations where a machine gun would be useful, the coaxial will do the job all the same. Anywho, it'll be Valarie's call to mount the thing or not. She could surprise us and find a use for it after all."

"Or just mount it for looks."

"…yeah that's more likely."

Later on in the school day, Emma was in the courtyard during the lunch hour. She was waiting for Valarie. The minutes went by and she still hasn't arrived. Right before she stood up to go look for her, there was Ashley walking about. She went toward her.

"Ashley! Where's Valarie?"

"Still in chemistry to finish a lab."

"I see. Is she doing alright?"

"Dude, like, you won't believe this. You gotta combine these two solutions while mixing them to get the right color but if you add just even a little too much it all goes to hell. When I left she was on her tenth try."

"That's not what I meant!"

"Oh. Um. She seems okay to me."

Emma sighed.

"Guess we'll see during the meeting. See you then."

Ashley left and Emma sat back down on the grass. She now started to eat her lunch when the sound of someone running grabbed her attention. It was Marielle, out of breath.

"I was…looking for you…all lunch." she said between gulps of air.

"Okay, Okay. What's up?"

Marielle just stood there trying to find the best words to convey the news but couldn't. She said it flat out.

"Valarie is…homeless."

All the emotion drained from Emma's face. She didn't hear that..right? No. She couldn't have. Her hearing must be going bad.

"Excuse me?" she said in a serious tone

"She's homeless."

"You're lying."

"No no! It's true! I saw her at the homeless shelter with her family. I volunteer there."

The food Emma brought now smelled rotten. She looked as Marielle became teary-eyed.

"I-I…didn't know who to talk to first about this. Then I thought of you and I know that you and Valarie are the best friends."

Emma felt physically ill.

"You did the right thing but promise me this. Tell no one else. I will take care of this."

"How?"

"Just trust me. Now, at the meeting, tell Miss Buchanan that'll I will be out sick."

"Um. Okay. You're sick?"

"I soon will be."

She left and Emma packed her things and walked with purpose toward the nurse's office. Once there, she saw through the window the school nurse busy at her computer. Then she mentally prepared herself for what she was about to too. After a few deep breaths, she stuck her fingers down her throat to induce vomiting. Seconds later, out came a shocked nurse.

"I'm sick. May I please go home?"

_That Afternoon_

The Mojave Rose Tankery Team were at their garage. There was always work to be done, and for today, Valarie's crew had their work cut out for them. When they first saw the new kit on the floor, they were beyond excited. Ashley knelt down next to the 100mm gun and touched the muzzle.

"We're gonna kick ass with this, oh yeah."

Valarie was amazed at the upgrade. A new turret, gun, and spaced armor? This modernized the T-44, as much as tanks can be per ATA regulations. Though, she wished her best friend was here to share in their joy.

"Where's Emma?"

"Oh, she's out sick unfortunately. She'd love this no doubt." Buchanan answered.

Even down a crew member, the T-44 crew was more than able to perform the upgrade. The ammo and other equipment were first removed from the old turret. Once empty, all the bolts and other fasteners that attached the turret to the hull was taken out. With the help of the ceiling-mounted crate, the old turret was lifted out of the T-44 and gently laid on the garage floor, producing a clang as it did. The new turret was then hoisted up and mounted on the hull. With that, the girls looked on at their tank with pride. Yet their work was not yet done.

"So, what do we do with the old turret?" Ashley asked

They looked at the old turret with curiosity. What can be done with it now with it no longer attached to a hull? Currently, it was just taking space.

"Perhaps the team could use it as a target for firing practice." Redwood suggested

"Like Hell you will!" Heather objected, staring directly at Redwood.

Knowing her history, Redwood backed off.

"Okay…Okay. We'll come up with a better use for the turret."

The final step was the spaced armor. Redwood pulled Valarie aside.

"Your mom is on her way, yeah?"

She began to answer before she pointed toward the door. There walked in her mother, wearing her protective gear. Redwood went to greet her.

"Hello Mrs. Woodlin, the team very much appreciates you lending your skills."

"Happy to help…is this the tank right here?" she asked as she walked to the T-44. Redwood left briefly and then returned with a blowtorch.

''I bet this will help."

"Ha. Thanks. So what am I doing exactly?"

Redwood opened a crate and pulled the contents out.

"Just welding these mounts for the spaced armor."

Valarie's mother eyed the mounts and looked at the tank. She instantly figured out where they were supposed to go.

"I'll leave you to it." Redwood said as he walked off.

With a flick of her head, Valarie's mother moved her face mask down while igniting the torch. Sparks flew as she welded on the mounts in their proper spaces. The sound of this work overcame all other work done in the garage with the entire team stopping what they were doing and looking at the T-44. From the farthest possible corner, Buchanan stood. The brightness of the torch was evident even where she was. These flames put her into a trance as her mind replayed that day back in 1990 with vivid detail. She can feel the searing heat of the fire and smell the vile smoke. Buchanan was about to panic when she then felt a comforting sensation on her shoulder.

"You alright Gabby?" Redwood asked calmly.

The panic and fear went away.

"Yeah…am now. Valarie's mother will be done soon?"

"Looks like it. She's a pro."

Mrs. Woodlin's skill as a welder was impressive. In no time at all was all the mounts firmly in their places. As she turned off the torch, she stepped back and admired her work. The T-44 crew watched with fascination.

"Your mom is cool, Val." Ashley complimented.

"Damn right."

With her work done, Valarie's mother was approached by Redwood.

"Fantastic! The girls will finish the upgrade. Here's your check."

She was handed the check and tucked it safely in her pockets.

"You're very much welcome. If you ever need a welder, you know who to call."

She left though not before giving Valarie a quick hug.

"See you later, honey."

The T-44 crew completed the upgrade. The spaced armor was bolted into place. A tiring process as Valarie and Ashley held up the metal as Heather fastened them into place. Though exhausting, they did the work with glee. The last thing the girls installed was the heavy machine gun. The sound of a bolt being pulled back signified that they were done. They stepped backed and looked at their new T-44-100. Its gun was elevated high in the air as if it was giving a salute. With how pristine the new modules looked, their tank looked fit for a parade in Red Square. Heather walked up the tank and rested her head against it.

"You're so beautiful…especially with that skirt." she whispered tenderly.

They were looking forward to taking their tank out for a spin in the upcoming match. Specifically, to see how that gun feels when it fires. That was to come, for now, the meeting was over and the team was dismissed. Valarie walked out of the garage and stopped briefly to look out to the wilderness of the Mojave. No matter how bad things are, its beauty was something that always provided comfort. At this time of day, the sun has just sunk beneath the landscape though the area has not yet plunged into darkness. The sky was a brilliant red-orange with only the silhouettes of faraway hills and other features of the Mojave being able to be seen. For this brief amount of time, Valarie was in another world. Where all her worries and anxieties did not exist. Complete tranquility. There was a breeze, a gentle wind. Her hair danced as it hit her. In the distance, she could see the desert vegetation flow as they too were blessed with a breeze. She stood for a few more moments taking in the scenery and then was sorrowful. Why couldn't a feeling like that last forever? Valarie wishes she can just expunge her negative emotions at will and never feel things like anger or frustration ever again. She sighed. There was a massive gulf between what she wants and what's possible. Though, currently, there was something else that she wanted and was possible to do. A bed to plop on. She turned away from the wilderness and began to walk toward the school exit, where she then saw Emma walking towards her.

"Oh hey, I thought you were sick?"

Emma had a ghost of a smile but couldn't hide her emotion. Valarie noticed.

"I wasn't sick really…" Emma admitted.

"Come here."

She led Valarie to a secluded area close to the garage so that no one would hear or bother them. She then gripped her hand tightly.

"Valarie. I know."

"What? I'm lost."

"I. Know."

Valarie felt her throat tighten as tears began to flow. She tightened her grip with Emma's hand.

"Wha-what? Ho…how? D-did someone tell you?" she stammered out

"Marielle told me. She saw you and your family at the homeless shelter. She volunteers there. Why didn't you say anything? Not even to me?"

Valarie was sobbing now. Emma wrapped her hands around her and wiped away the tears. The two just stood there for a few moments. Soon, Valarie composed herself.

"I didn't want anybody to know! I didn't want anyone to worry…I didn't want you to worry!"

Now Emma was tearing up. What is happening to her best friend was something she will not tolerate. Though she can understand what Valarie aimed to do, in the end, she had to know.

"So, if you weren't sick why did you leave early?"

"To tell my parents. They'll love to have you stay until everything goes back to normal."

Valarie looked at Emma briefly in disbelief before hugging her with all the warmth she can give. The generosity her friend was dispensing was above and beyond. Emma didn't have to do this but would absolutely hate herself if she just stood by and did nothing.

"I'll tell my parents about this as soon as I see them." Valarie said.

"Okay, see you soon."

The two hugged once more where they then departed. Emma looked on as Valarie ran toward the school exit.

_Later_

At the same 24/7 parking lot, Valarie's family sat in the car together doing their best to relax. She had something to say.

"I have some news." Valarie announced.

Both her parents turned toward her.

"Emma knows about our…situation."

"How?" her dad asked

"A student saw us at the shelter. She then told her."

Her parents were hit with a wave of shame.

"Emma's parents are offering to take me in until everything gets sorted out."

Upon hearing this, her parents were initially silent. They thought to themselves. Husband looked at wife. He nodded. After a few more moments, so did she. The car was then turned on and drove out of the parking lot. Valarie has been to Emma's home before for the occasional sleepover and vice versa. There was already a familiarity with Emma's family which made the decision to accept their effort easier to digest. Outside of family, Emma's parents were the only people they could trust with taking care of their daughter. When they arrived, they saw that Emma was waiting outside. Once the car parked Emma, unprompted, helped Valarie with her belongings. As the girls get settled, the parents got to talking.

"I can't even begin to imagine how to thank you. What you are doing is beyond generous." Valarie's mother said.

"Our daughters are inseparable. When Emma came home early, she told us everything. We never seen her so distraught. We love Valarie so we just couldn't do nothing. Besides…Emma would hate us if we did." Emma's dad explained.

Valarie's dad then motioned toward his wife's pocket.

"Oh yeah…"

She presented the check she received earlier in the day.

"Take this, it's $3,000. That'll cover costs for a while."

Emma's parents refused the money.

"You need it way more than we do."

Valarie's mother checked her emotions as she put away the check.

Emma led Valarie to her room where she would be staying for the foreseeable future. The last of her belongings were laid on the floor. Valarie looked at Emma with an overwhelming sense of appreciation. She then went to her parents and hugged them.

"We'll visit when we're off work, okay?" her dad said.

"You be a good guest now. Love you." her mom said.

They maintained the hug for a solid minute. Her parents left thereafter. Though they were going to sleep in their car, the knowledge that Valarie was sleeping on a bed with people who cared about her as fiercely as they do soothe them.

In Emma's room, Valarie was getting her space in order. On the floor was layered blankets to be as comfortable as possible. Emma's mom came in and gave her a fluffy pillow.

"Valarie, for however long is needed, this is your home now."

"Thank you. Thank you all so much." Valarie said graciously.

"Our pleasure. Now, it's time for bed. It's a school night."

The light was shut off and the door gently closed. Valarie was laying on her makeshift bed when she then heard Emma shift on her bed.

"You're not sleeping on the floor. Get up here." she whispered.

Valarie, hesitant at first, got into the bed with Emma. The bed was just big enough for the both of them. Even in the darkness, they could feel that they were looking straight into each other's eyes. Though what they can't see is the other blushing hard. Underneath the sheets, they clasped hands. Together, they entered into a calming sleep.

_Tuesday_

The following morning, Valarie was the first to awake. It was early enough that the sun has not yet risen above the horizon. The sleep she just had was amazing. A bed makes the world of a difference when it comes to the quality of sleep. To her surprise and delight, Valarie found that Emma was still holding her hand as firmly and reassuringly as ever. Slowly, she got out of bed and rummaged through her bags. She got out some clothes and a pair of towels and had a quick shower. When she returned, Emma was also awake and was in the process of getting dressed. They both quickly looked away from each other.

"Sorry." they both said simultaneously.

"Since you're wet you get dressed first. I'll just wait outside the door." Emma suggested.

"But it's your room." Valarie countered.

"It's our room now."

At a stalemate, the two girls agreed on a compromised. They'll get dressed at the same time but looking at opposite directions.

"_It's just like PE. Why are you so nervous?" _Valarie thought to herself.

As she put on more articles of clothing, another thought popped into her mind.

"_Honestly…I wouldn't mind if she took a peek…woah…man what are these feelings?" _

Valarie's face became intensely red and shook the thought from her head. She focused on getting dressed. As she finished and turned around, she saw Emma with a hairbrush in hand.

"I want to brush your hair. It needs attention."

Valarie sat on the bed while Emma knelt behind her. She began to tenderly brush her hair. Silently. There was no need for an exchange of words for how Emma treated her hair was all that was needed to be said on how much they care about each other. Soon she stopped brushing and then applied an oil. By the end of it, Valarie's hair was incredibly soft and shined when the sun finally arose. She has never felt more at ease.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

Valarie then recalled something.

"When you braided your hair a while ago, I never said anything about it. I was going through a lot…but I will say it now. I loved it. You looked amazing."

Emma smiled and entered into a blush. There was then a knock at the door.

"Hope you're decent."

Emma's mother entered.

"Good morning girls. Breakfast is on the table. Let's go eat and finish getting ready for school."

Breakfast was simple yet hearty. Once that was taken care of, they both finished getting ready and together walked to the bus stop. Upon their arrival at school, they went to their respective classes. Things weren't back to normal but it was getting awfully close.

The school day was just like any other, with Valarie doing alright in all her classes except that infuriating chemistry class. It was just another obstacle that she got over. When the tankery meeting for that day started, Valarie excitedly showed off the new T-44-100.

"I get to shoot that thing? Wow!"

As all the crews were busy with their vehicles, Valarie headed toward the VK where she saw Marielle reading a map.

"Hello Marielle. Mind if we talk about something?"

"S-sure."

Anxiously, Marielle was led to the T-44.

"Climb inside."

Within, Marielle found herself crammed against the T-44 crew.

"No offense, but why are you here?" Ashley questioned.

Marielle could only shrug. Or at least try to in the tight space. Once Valarie closed the hatch, she began speaking.

"Okay. Here's what's up. On the fourth of this month, I was homeless. I lied to you all when I said everything was okay. But now, I can say with honesty, that I'm okay for the time being. I'm staying with Emma until everything is back to normal."

Heather and Ashley were stunned. They never anticipated that things got that bad for Valarie but were relieved that she was sleeping under a roof for now.

"Lord." Ashley uttered.

"Is there anything we can do for you?" Heather asked.

"Focus on the match. That's what important right now."

Everyone in the tank nodded. They all got out. Before Marielle could fully leave, Valarie laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you."

Marielle beamed and skipped happily back to her VK. She was worried that what she had done would cause a rift but now she worries no more. Valarie stood at the T-44, deep in thought.

"What's up, Val?" Ashley inquired.

"I have one more thing to do."

Valarie walked around the garage and asked both Redwood and Buchanan for a chat. In the privacy of the garage office, she recited everything she had told earlier. They were both completely taken aback. Neither was aware that Valarie was going through any trouble at all. She did it extremely well. Their concern subsided as she assured them of the fact that she was staying with Emma.

"Valarie, is there anything me or Miss Buchanan can do?"

Valarie stood up.

"The only thing I want is this conversation to be confidential. This team needs to be purely focused on the next match, not on me."

Redwood and Buchanan looked at each other, partially amazed.

"Okay Val. Just between us."

With a smile, Valarie left the office. The two adults still felt they were in a daze.

"Selfless to a fault. She should've told us the moment things went south." Redwood said.

Buchanan didn't immediately respond as she was thinking to herself. Then she spoke.

"When people experience trauma, they all process it in their own ways. For Valarie, telling people she was homeless would've made them worry which in turn just make her worry even more. So, she didn't tell anyone at first and suffered alone. Sooner or later, she would have to tell someone. Something like that just can't be hidden forever. In this case, Marielle found out. It's a mindset I understand."

"Because you had it." Redwood said solemnly.

Buchanan's eyes darted toward the floor.

"Yes."

Redwood arose from his chair and put his arm around Buchanan.

"How traumatized do you think she is?"

"Hard to tell. I won't way for sure that Valarie will awake in the night, crying, because she had a night terror about losing her home. I will say that this will stick with her for life."

"Thankfully, right now, she has a great support network."

Buchanan looked appreciatively at Redwood.

"So do I."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valarie no longer has to maintain the masquerade that she isn't homeless but the pain remains. Thankfully, preparing for the third match in the American Nationals proves to be an excellent distraction.

A sea of grass as far as the eye could see, only infrequently interrupted by the lone tree. Exploring this environment was Valarie, traveling from tree to tree with no destination in mind. A wanderer. At each tree she reached, she would rest for a few minutes underneath the shade. The sun wasn't brutal but with her pale skin, she was more at risk of sunburn than most. She would also carefully climb each tree to see where the next one was. Another was always not too far away. How long she was doing this, she did not know. Night seemingly never arrived. The day appeared constant. In fact, Valarie believed the sun never moves, instead, it just lies motionless.

A Perpetual noon.

The weather was peculiar as there wasn't any. The sky was devoid of any clouds and there wasn't a shred of wind. The land was incredibly silent as well. There were no birds nor squirrels that would usually bring life to the skies and trees. The only thing audible was the sound of crushed grass as Valarie walked about. Despite all these oddities, it warranted no concern from her. Her only desire was to wander. She crested a hill and paused for a moment. Hills can be another way to take her bearings and look for the next tree. As she scanned the land ahead of her, her eyes caught something moving. Moving fast in an easterly direction. Away from her. She couldn't quite make it out exactly but from the outline, it was a tank of some sort. She knelt down and as she did so the bones in her knees cracked. The distant tank then halted and Valarie saw the turret turn to her direction. As if it heard her even though someone would have to be right next to her to hear such a sound. With worry, Valarie watched as the tank drove toward her. As the machine drew near, she could make it out. It was a Panzer IV Ausf. H. The tank increased its speed as it got closer. Scared, Valarie turned and ran down the hill. When she looked back she saw the Panzer IV cresting the hill and stopped.

The long-barreled 75mm cannon aimed directly at her. Even though they were some distance that separated the two, Valarie looked dead on the gun and down the barrel. She could feel that her eyes matched the ones of the gunner who was peering down their sights. It spawned emotions that confused her. She felt a friendliness...grace...and an iron-willed determination. Then one of the hatches opened and out came a figure. Valarie squinted as she tried to get a clear picture but paradoxically anything she did to get a good visual just made things more blurry. It must be the commander, at least the outline of one. Though it was only just an outline...she felt this familiarity. But her mind was so clouded that she couldn't think properly. The more she tried to think the more confused she became. To a point where it actually hurt. Then, from her peripheral vision, the figure popped down and re-entered the Panzer. The moment the hatch closed it lurched forward and barreled down the hill. It was heading straight toward her.

"…_hey."_

The Panzer's engine revved as it moved in.

"…_Hey!"_

Her vision then was composed entirely by the tank.

"Hey!"

Valarie was shaken awake by Emma, holding a plate of food.

"You feel asleep in the twenty seconds I was gone to get your dinner?"

"..huh?"

She was all groggy and disorientated. Valarie rubbed her eyes.

"Guess so…sorry."

"Don't be. I was just surprised and all. Anyway, are you done with your strategy for this week's match?"

Valarie looked down at her playbook and looked at what she wrote. She grabbed a pen and wrote a '7' and put it away.

"Am now."

"Great!"

Emma handed her the plate. They ate together in their room. As they did, Valarie thought about what she just dreamed about. Dreams were a rarity for her. The last one she had was four years ago and it was as bizarre as the one she just had. What exactly triggers her to have dreams was something Valarie wondered about. She tried a myriad of methods in order for her to guarantee a dream yet nothing worked. It was seemingly at random. Yet, what bewildered her the most, was that even when she does have the rare dream, it was never related to tanks despite her intense passion. Until now. Why? Was her being the captain of a tankery team made her life so inundated with tanks that it finally seeped into her subconscious? A theory. Her train of thought changed tracks and now she wondered if her dream had any deeper meanings. She pondered if that Panzer IV represented something. Of course, if it was any tank she'd been thinking the same thing. The girls finished their meals and after the plates were put away, Valarie reviewed her strategy. There was a tap on her shoulder.

"May I read it?" Emma asked

"Sure."

Emma was given the playbook and read through what she has written. Valarie looked forward to the feedback. The more Emma read the more confused her face became. She flipped through a few more pages then closed the playbook and handed it back.

"It's different…I think it works but it has this strange aura to it."

"Hmm. I don't see that."

Valarie placed the playbook aside.

"Regardless, I'll showcase this tomorrow at the commander's meeting. After their input, the strategy will be finalized."

"I know."

Emma laid in her bed and looked straight up to the ceiling.

"Tell me. Is the plan bad?" Valarie questioned.

"It's not that it's bad…it just feels different."

"I still don't understand."

"You know what? I don't either. Maybe one day I will and tell you."

The hour grew late. Valarie crawled into Emma's bed and together they drifted asleep.

_Wednesday_

Valarie was alone in Room 34. The rest of the team was at the garage. In a few minutes, the commanders of the Mojave Rose tankery team will arrive for a session. She was doing prep work, setting up a display and reviewing her notes. With that accomplished, she sat down at one of the desks and waited. In the silence of the room, she only had her thoughts. What Emma said about the strategy was something she was thinking about all day. Valarie just couldn't see what Emma sees. It was irrelevant what she thought anyway. She had no intention of abandoning the strategy. If it makes some people iffy about it, so be it. The door opened and walked in was the commanders. The session could now begin.

"To build upon what Ray had started, Valentine will be corralled into this large valley flanked by two large ridges. _Nomad_ and _Mirage_ will harass them and get as many as they can to follow into the valley."

"Oh, just like with Bascom?" Robin commented

"Yes but with a twist."

Valarie pointed to a location on the map.

"_Sierra_ will be at this plateau six miles away. They'll strike Valentine the moment they arrive at this exact location. We'll refer to it as Point 'Denver'.

"Why don't we shoot them the moment they get into the valley?" Sage asked

"We shoot one of them and the rest won't drive in. Our objective is to not knock them out. From our positions at the ridges, we will shoot near them in order to force them to bunch up. Then, when this mass of steel reaches Point 'Denver', _Sierra _will wipe them out."

Jacqueline let out a small laugh.

"Val…err…captain. The 152mm can do some work but you don't honestly expect that thing to do that damage, even if we assume the best-case scenario of the entire enemy team being at Point 'Denver'?"

Valarie looked at her with a smile.

"By doing simple research on the terrain…you can massively increase the effectiveness of our vehicles. At the very least, you'll eliminate multiple targets. Still, we must be ready for all possibilities. So if Valentine is not totally defeated at the valley engagement, we'll just withdraw and together as a unit, hunt down the last of 'em."

The commanders studied the display which was covered with notes. They were satisfied with the plans and had no qualms about it. Why would they? So far, the strategy Valarie has concocted has served the team good enough. It was up to them to execute the plan well.

Once the meeting concluded, Emma and Valarie headed home. While the girls were lounging around in their room, Valarie's parents came for a visit. They were ragged and were running on little sleep. Nonetheless, they still managed to smile. The situation has not changed. Her mother was still working a ludicrous amount of hours at the welding shop while her father walks the town going from job to job. His shoes were incredibly worn. Though, it has also meant things haven't got worse. A small little comfort. Her parents couldn't stay long. They departed after a short while as work for both was approaching.

Valarie felt awful. How was it fair that she gets to sleep in a warm bed while her parents had to endure the cold temperatures of the night in their car? She knows how far her parents were willing to sacrifice in order for her to have a place to sleep but Valarie didn't want them to resort to such circumstances. She sat on the bed, sniffling.

When will things go back to normal?  
Emma comforted her best friend by caressing her hair. The only thing any of them could do was wait and hope for a turn of fortune.

_Thursday_

Busy. That was the most apt word to describe that day's tankery meeting. Tomorrow, the Mojave Rose tankery team will board a charter bus to Phoenix, Arizona. Their tanks have already been loaded onto a freight train, which is now on its way to the match. Without their vehicles, the garage was a lot more spacious. The team was currently packing equipment. Anything that could possibly be useful was shoved into a box for transport. As the teams were getting things ready, Redwood and Buchanan were sat in the garage office, finalizing the details of the trip.

"Bus taken care of. Motel rooms secured. Oh, in the interest of saving some money, you and I will be sharing a room again."  
"That's fine."

Buchanan suppressed her joy. There was another opportunity. Hopefully this time mother nature decides not to interrupt.

"How's the weather over there?"

Redwood typed at his keyboard.

"It's going to be pleasantly warm but with heavy winds."

"Heh. Better than a thunderstorm."

Once they finished their business in the office the pair left and helped around the garage where they could.

"Can you just chill out?"

Heather was nervously pacing around the spot where the T-44 once parked.

"Maybe it was too soon to upgrade our tank. Just installed and already on a train?"

Ashley dismissed her worries.

"Nothing is going to happen. You're worrying over nothing."

"But what if the train hugs a corner too close and tears off the spaced armor…her skirt!"

"Hey?" Ashley questioned

"The tank."

"The T-44 is a '_her'_?"

"Yes, obviously. Her name is Katanya and she is beautiful in her skirt.

Recalling Heather's disciplinary record, Ashley wisely decided not to poke fun over her personifying the tank.

"Well…I'm sure 'Katanya' will have a safe trip, along with the other vehicles."

Heather anxiously tugged at her uniform.

"Hopefully you're right."

"C'mon. We still got things to pack."

At another area of the garage, the IS-3 crew was finishing with their preparations.

"You guys want to know something cool?" Ray asked his crew.

They looked at him.

"What?" asked Cesar.

"That since our first week being part of the team, we've received no flak over it. Sure, way back when Natalie was against us but now she turned around. She tolerates us, I think."

"She's that Jagdpanzer IV commander huh? I remember her glaring at us during our first practice. Now she doesn't even look at us." Jeremy recalled.

"She waved at us once." Ray said.

"I was always afraid that being apart of a sport so heavily dominated by girls would mean we would all have to deal with a bunch of bullshit but nothing like that has happened. The teams we go against in our matches truly do not care we are in the sport. Hell Ray, you being the co-captain means that we are not only tolerated but welcome." Ryan said.

He smiled.

"Yeah. It just makes you feel good. "

"Though…we just can't expect _everyone_ to like the fact we are participating. Sooner or later, we'll meet someone who despises the fact we are in tankery." Jeremy shared.

They all looked at him.

"Oh yeah? If we do meet someone like that they can't do a damn thing about it. We have a right just as much as everyone to be in this sport, any sport! The worst thing they can do to us is just whine. " Ray exclaimed.

"Even _if_ anyone tries to get us to quit, we'll have the team to back us up. We're not alone."

Mojave Rose packed what they deemed necessary. They were then dismissed early so that they can both pack their personal belongings and ensure that the team gets a full night's rest. Emma and Valarie were in their room filling their bags with their uniforms, spare clothes, and other necessities. She grabbed the playbook and flipped toward the latest page.

"The plan still giving that strange aura?" she asked.

Emma turned toward Valarie and glanced at the book and then at her.

"I feel less iffy about it now."

"Do you think it's a bad plan?"

Emma shook her head.

"It's just…different. A plan that's different doesn't mean it's bad or good."

"So why do you feel weird about it?"

"I just don't know."

Valarie was intrigued.

"Hopefully you figure out what's up real soon. I'm very curious about this."

"I'll be sure to tell you."

They finished packing and put their bags side by side on the floor. Though it wasn't time to sleep just yet. Emma turned on the TV in the room. The screen flicked on and was playing _Friends_.

"Hey! It's your show." Emma joked.

Valarie blushed and let out a laugh.

"Real comedian, aren't ya?"

The girls watched the show quietly for a few minutes. The jokes feel flat not even garnering a rush of air from the nose. Guess it was for the previous generation. Valarie then asked a question from out of left field.

"Ever think it's odd that neither of us went on dates? Hell, I don't think you ever had a boyfriend….yeah…thinking about now…you never had one."

Emma was flustered.

"Um…well…you never had one either."

"Yeah. You're right. I had crushes over the years, but so does everyone."

"You still have these…crushes?" Emma asked slightly nervous.

"No. They faded away Either the people I was crushing on got into a relationship or I just grew out of it."

Emma was internally relieved. They watched more TV.

"Do you have any crushes right now?"

Valarie looked at her.

"Maybe." she said with a grin.

"Oh, is it someone we know?"

"I won't make it easy on you."

"Is it multiple people or just one?"

Valarie blushed.

"Just one."

"You're not gonna say anything else about this, huh?"

"Oh alright…one hint."

Valarie got real close to Emma.

"I've had this one crush for a while now." she whispered.

"Tell me more!"

"Nope."

They looked away from each other, blushing. For the remainder of the evening, they watched TV together. Episode after episode of the mediocre show they were watching flew by as the hour grew late. Soon, Emma turned and saw that Valarie had fallen asleep. She ensured that a blanket was nice and snug on her. The TV was then turned off and the room was then shrouded with darkness. Emma made herself comfortable in the bed. Underneath the sheets, their hands found each other and entered into a warm embrace.

_Friday_

At midday, the Mojave Rose tankery team was out in the front of the school. Before them was the familiar charter bus. They had a trip shy of six hours ahead of them. As the team began to board and stow their luggage, Valarie's mother arrived. She wanted to see her daughter off. When they approached each other, they hugged.

"Where's dad?" Valarie asked.

"He told me he had something important to do."

"Ah. It's fine."

Valarie's mother then remembered something and produced something from her pocket.

"We got another gift for you."

What her parents gifted her was a handcrafted necklace. The chain was of polished sterling silver, resembling tank tracks. The decoration was Valarie's birthstone, a piece of diamond-shaped to look like a drive sprocket. Being so knowledgeable about everything and anything tank related, Valarie was able to quickly identify that the drive sprocket resembled the one on the legendary Tiger tank. The piece of jewelry shined brilliantly in the sunlight. Valarie fell in love with it instantly.

"…wow! I love it! How could you guys get this?"

"One of your dad's odd jobs paid in bits of jewelry instead of cash. He brought it to be where I put it together and polished it."

Valarie gazed at the gift for a few more minutes before putting it on. The cool metal felt nice around her neck.

"Now. You got a match to win. Good luck, honey."

They hugged once more where then Valarie boarded the bus. As it drove away, her mother waved as the vehicle disappeared from view. The area got silent as Katherine got into her car and drove away. Back to the 24/7 parking lot that her family has become accustomed too. She parked the car and reclined the seat. Her next shift was in three hours so she'll take the opportunity to catch some sleep. Katherine got comfortable and dozed off. She managed to snag an hour of rest before being startled awake by a knock on the driver's side door. It was her husband, visibly happy. She opened the door.

"Kat, babe, how did Valarie like our gift?"

"Oh, she adored it."

Preston smiled in satisfaction.

"Knew she'd love it. Anyway, I got some news."

He pulled out some papers from his pockets.

"A trucking company out in Nevada is looking for experienced truckers. I managed to schedule an interview with them.

Katherine was beaming.

"You did?! Babe!"

Then it hit her.

"Somewhere in Nevada? And you still need to go through an interview?"

"Yeah, nothing is set in stone. But it's the best chance we got to get things back to normal. Check this out."

He looked at the paper he brought.

"The benefits are better than my old job…I'll make ten thousand more a year, there's a dental plan and with it being a union job everything will just be better."

The levels of joy between them were high. Katherine reached in the rear of the car into some boxes and pulled out some bags.

"You'll need your best clothes...when is the interview?"

"Tomorrow."

She froze momentarily before then turning and starting the car.

"Get in. You need to get on the next bus to Nevada right _now_!"

The moment Preston sat in the car, it raced out of the parking lot and toward the bus station. As he didn't get the chance to put on a seat belt, he held on to one of the handholds though he still hit against the inner walls of the car as his wife made sharp turns toward their destination. At record pace, they arrived unharmed. The couple rapidly packed a bag. He wouldn't need much. Preston went up to the booth and purchased a ticket. The money Katherine made from the T-44 job will ensure Preston will spend what he needs for the trip without worrying too much on money. Once he was ready, he held his wife and gave her a kiss.

"When will you be back?"

"Definitely before Valarie returns from her match."

They held each other for a few more moments with their foreheads resting on the other.

"Be safe and good luck."

Husband kissed wife once more. He then walked off. The bus was boarded and it drove off. Her daughter fights for a win while her husband fights for a new job. For Katherine, all that she could do was to be patient. By the end of the weekend, it was up to chance to see if their situation improved.

No.

Not by chance.

Both her daughter and husband were skilled at what they do. All her concerns evaporated.

"They got this by the ass."


	14. Mojave Rose v. Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this installment, a friendship becomes something more and two schools embark in a match as the American National Tournament reaches its halfway point. In the Arizona wilderness, a duel commences. Though time will reveal that a wild card will leave their mark. 
> 
> Let's hope the teams don't try to breathe in too much.

_February 16th, 2013_

_Phoenix, Arizona_

It was five minutes past 2 AM. The Mojave Rose tankery team has arrived in the city hours earlier. Upon doing so they have checked in to their motel and settled in for the night. They'll need every ounce of energy for the match to come. The arrangement was the same as before with each crew sharing a room. The T-44 crew was sound asleep in their room. Until one of them wasn't. Emma was on the floor resting on a makeshift bed when she was then awoken. The motel keeps their rooms at a very cool temperature. Emma was more susceptible to the cold than other people so throughout the night she had multiple layers of blankets over her. Yet the cold awoke her earlier than everyone else. She arose and checked the bed where Valarie slept. She looked so serene in her slumber. Emma studied the bed a bit longer. It wasn't too terribly small. There was just enough room for another person. Valarie surely wouldn't mind if she crawled in for any reason, especially to be warm. Emma got into the bed and nestled right next to Valarie. The warmth radiating from her body was just what she desired. Valarie shifted, seemingly to better incorporate Emma alongside her. Not too long after, she fell asleep.

A few hours later and the sun has shined through the window though not yet hitting the bed. Hitting Ashley, she awoke. She was curious to see that Emma was no longer in her makeshift bed. When she stood up, her curiosity turned to surprise. There on the bed was the two girls. Her friends. Ashley smiled and blushed as her mind ran through a million reasons as to explain the situation before her. Though, even with what she was seeing, it was too soon to make any assumptions about their relationship. They were best friends after all. For all she knew, this was something they've always done. Still…she'll keep a watchful eye of any change of behavior between the two.

In another part of the motel, Redwood and Buchanan were wide awake and in the process of getting ready. Buchanan was nervous. She had something to confess to Redwood but just couldn't bring out the words. He was currently shaving in the bathroom so thankfully he couldn't see her squirm. She quickly finished getting dressed and sat on the bed. Her eyes stared at the wall ahead of her, wrestling over what to do. Is it the right time to ask? The right place to ask? What if he Redwood reacts negatively to what she says? It would strain their friendship perhaps even ruin it. But she wanted it to be something more.

It was now or never.

Redwood finished shaving and exited the bathroom. Buchanan stood up upon seeing him.

"Martin." she said, voice slightly cracking.

"We've known each other for ages but only in the past few months have we really gotten to _know_ each other."

Redwood blushed faintly.

"Yeah. It's been a great past few months. So much has happened."

"And to tell you what I was trying to say back in December…"

"On why you don't like nicknames but okay with me calling you 'Gabby'?"

"Oh…yes exactly."

"If I remember right, I'm 'special'."

"Yes, You're special because…because…"

The words were stuck in her voice and refuse to vocalize. Her nervousness was at an absolute high.

"Because…?" Redwood asked.

Buchanan couldn't believe she couldn't say it. She wasn't a teenager anymore. She was a forty-year-old woman. This shouldn't be happening but it was. What she said about Redwood was true. He was special. A man passionate about the students and the team and a man that genuinely cared for her, as an individual. Whenever she would get a night terror, now instead of resorting to alcohol to numb the pain and try to forget, she would call Redwood. Regardless of the hour, he would remain on the phone for whoever long it was needed to calm her down. He would talk about a myriad of different subjects to get her mind distracted and at ease. Be it something interesting he heard on the news or something from his time at the office, he did whatever was necessary to help her. Buchanan couldn't ask or even imagine a better person to be in her life. So, when words fail her, the only alternative was action.

"Fuck it…"

Buchanan stepped forward and pulled Redwood closer. She kissed him. He was surprised but only momentarily as he returned the kiss in kind. They both wrapped their hands around each other and maintained this pose for a few long moments. She then broke the kiss.

"And _THAT_ was what I was trying to tell you." Buchanan said with excitement.

"You got a way with words, I can tell you that."

"So, does that mean…?"

Redwood smiled and nodded.

"Yeah! Obviously."

They both blushed.

"Geez. I haven't had a boyfriend since…high school. Wow…that long ago." Buchanan remarked.

The new couple held hands as they gave each other a quick kiss. They then resumed getting ready. A match was soon to begin.

_Later_

On the outskirts of Phoenix was where Mojave Rose and Valentine were to conduct their match. A bus delivered the team to an area, a desert. A type of environment that they were all familiar with. As they departed the bus, it was abundantly clear that the day was going to be very windy. Strong enough that bits of dust and sand were being blown here and there. Not far from them was their vehicles. Heather walked quickly, ahead of the team, to the T-44 to inspect it.

"Ahh…safe and sound. You're ready for your debut." she said, patting the vehicle.

Valentine's vehicles were not too far from them, just 500 meters away. On top of her tank, Valarie used her binoculars to take a good look at them. Mostly early model T-34s. Some Matildas and, appropriately, Valentine tanks equipped with the 6-pounder gun. Though what caught Valarie's attention was the enemy team's four heavy tanks and two tank destroyers. Three Churchills and a KV-1. Then there was an ARL V39 and an M10 Wolverine. Usually, vehicles like the M10 wouldn't be allowed for matches due to vehicles like that being open-topped which would put crews in too much danger. To be sanctioned for matches, this M10 had a piece of steel mounted over its turret.

"Diverse roster. They'll be flexible for sure." Valarie said.

"Any impacts on the plan?" Emma inquired.

"No." Valarie responded confidently.

If anything, the plan has become more imperative to pull off considering the number of high-value targets. The wind continued to fiercely blow. At 11:00 AM, the call was given for each team to drive to their starting positions. With 15 minutes to the start, the team mentally prepared themselves. Inside the T-44, Emma was cradling Valarie's new necklace and admiring it.

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you."

Even at their lowest, Valarie's parents still managed to get her something special. She'd never forget that. She'll repay them for their actions somehow. Now, though, it was time to focus.

"Alright everyone, you all know your orders." Valarie remarked over the radio.

All of the team's commanders responded affirmatively. The official in front of them outside was looking at her watch. She then raised her starting pistol in the air and fired.

"Panzer Vor!"

The team advanced and the third match of the American National Tournament has begun. The T-44 formed the tip of a 'V'-formation as they drove on. 20 minutes of travel elapsed where the SU-14 then splintered off to its firing position at a nice plateau. It wasn't too long after when then the Puma and Stuart sped forward to locate the enemy team. The remaining vehicles of Mojave Rose proceeded to their planned positions. The wind continued to grow in strength as it howled. Within the hour they arrived and split into two groups. On one hill was the IS-3, Jumbo and, Cromwell. On the other hill was the T-44, VK, Jagdpanzer IV, and ACIV. Between them was the wide valley. Their guns weren't trained on the land below them. They situated themselves in a way where if someone were to drive in the valley, they wouldn't see them. Valarie was out of the hatch and scanning the environment. Emma came out and took a look as well.

"What's that over there?" she said pointing down the valley.

Valarie aimed her binoculars at what Emma pointed at. She saw a small collection of abandoned buildings, the biggest one looking like a depot. Being in this desert did the buildings no favors. They were incredibly damaged being at the mercy of the harsh weather. The metal parts that composed them were rusted completely. On the walls, graffiti can be sighted splattered all over them. Some were interesting pieces of artwork while the rest were phrases in an unreadable font. There were empty spaces where doors and windows once were installed. Now gone with the exception of the large doors keeping the depot hermetically sealed.

"That's Point 'Denver'."

"Ah. So when Valentine drives past it, _Sierra_ will lob a shell over there?"

"Exactly."

Valarie activated her radio with a squeeze of her neck.

"_Sierra,_ what's your status?"

"We've pre-aimed at 'Denver' and ready to fire." Jacqueline reported.

"Copy. Await my command."

The radio was switched off.

"Now we wait."

At another part of the battlefield, the Puma and Stuart were blazing across the scorched sand. The Puma was way ahead of the Stuart, a fact that brought Aurora joy.

"You got engine trouble or something? Ha Ha!" she joked.

Mia wasn't amused.

"Oh shut up. You know this thing isn't as fast as your race car."

"I think I'm hearing an excuse."

"Girl…please."

"Alright…alright."

The Puma matched speed with the Stuart. Both commanders were out of their hatches, vigilant. The duo crested a ridge where they stopped.

"Hopefully they come our way." Aurora said.

"Ideally not from behind us." Mia added.

Binoculars in hand, they scanned the horizon. Nothing stood out as the land was barren. A strong gust of wind hit them which threw sand on them.

"God! This wind is so annoying!" Mia exclaimed as she wiped the desert of her face.

She glanced at Aurora who was now wearing a tan bandanna. She did the same. They continue to watch for ten minutes.

"Okay, we've waited long enough. Let's go some—"

Aurora was interrupted by the piercing whistle of a shell flying past. She immediately looked at the direction it came from and sighted three Churchills with a number of tanks behind them. Mia reported over the radio,

"Enemy spotted! We're reeling them in!"

The Stuart and Puma both shot a round toward the enemy and reverse. A volley of return fire was sent their direction but all missed. The speedy duo harassed the opposition. They followed at a steady pace. Their tank destroyers sped up and took up firing positions. Around the light tanks, large columns of sand were flung into the air as rounds landed around them. Swerving made them near impossible to hit but some shells came awfully close. The rest of the team situated on the hills could now hear the sound of distant cannon fire.

"Not long now." Valarie said.

Valentine's tanks could see the two large hills and saw how the two tanks they were pursuing then darted into the valley. They halted.

"Anyone else see the connection?" said one of the Churchill commanders.

"Yeah, I think I do." said another.

The KV-1 commander spoke up.

"I want Tanks 7,8,10,11,12,13, and 14 to go east. The remainder shall continue their pursuit of the light tanks. Exercise extreme caution."

With that, the opposition complied. A segment of the team split and drove east. The rest of their team entered the valley. They moved slowly, all their turrets aimed at the top of the hills that flanked them.

"Spooky." commented one of the T-34 commanders.

They drove for a few more minutes when then the abandoned buildings came into view.

"Even more spooky."

"I got a bad feeling about this." spoke another

At the top of the hills, Mojave Rose crept closer forward to get their guns to bear.

"Remember. Aim near them to force them to bunch up. Do not knock them out. Yet." Valarie commanded.

She watched as Valentine drove forward a few more meters. Once she was convinced they were committed, she issued the order.

"Open up!"

Instantaneously and in unison, the team let loose a barrage of fire down toward the valley. Shots splashed around Valentine's tanks. This sudden action made them get closer together.

"Keep up this pressure! Do not let them spread out!"

As Mojave Rose maintained their fire, Valentine was getting closer and closer to the point where they were now touching each other. Now this one big mass of metal, they were an extremely tempting target. A shot into that mess will guarantee an elimination. But Mojave Rose had to stick to the plan.

"What the hell is this?" remarked a Matilda commander.

"Can they not shoot or what?"

"I don't know but, God, is it infuriating." responded a Churchill commander.

The near hits continue to come down. The constant pressure forced them to maintain being massed together. The buildings that they saw before were now just seconds away.

"_Sierra, _time to target?" Valarie asked.

"Ten seconds." Jacqueline responded promptly.

Valarie watched Valentine's vehicles. They were now driving into the buildings and coming up on the depot. They were going to be right next to it.

"Perfect."

She clicked on the radio.

"_Sierra_. Fire."

The SU-14 launched a 152mm shell into the air. It pierced through a set of clouds before punching through another set as it plunged toward the earth. Mojave Rose ceased firing as greater fireworks were imminent. The heavy-caliber high-explosive shell smashed into the roof of the depot yet the material was too thin for the explosive to detonate. Unlike the rest of the buildings, however, the depot was not empty. For within was a long-forgotten stockpile of gasoline barrels. Just a fraction of a second of piercing the roof, the shell landed right into the barrels and exploded

The explosion was larger than anyone on either team has ever seen. A immense fireball of the ignited gasoline was of a brilliant brightness. The sound was so great that it was heard all the way at the spectator's area, startling and exciting the viewers. The energy released rattled the tanks of Mojave Rose which caused some to fear that the blast was so great that it consumed them. As the gasoline burned away and the thick black smoke dissipated, the carnage was laid bare. In one shot, ten enemy tanks have been eliminated from play, white flags at the mercy of the harsh wind. Just two of Valentine's tanks were still in action but their crews were in a heavy daze.

"Cut down the stragglers." Valarie ordered.

The VK moved forward a planted a shell into one of the remaining T-34s. The other survivor, a Matilda, still didn't move. Its crew was dazed and unable to react to the situation. A shot from the Jumbo ensured that they wouldn't have any influence over the match any longer.

"_Sierra, _good effect on targets. Ten enemy tanks out of play."

The SU-14 crew erupted into a cheer.

"Holy…wow! Ten?! In one shot! Amazing!" Jacqueline exclaimed.

It wasn't all of them as Valarie hoped but an exemplary start. She felt a tug on her uniform.

"You knew that depot had something inside it, did you?" Emma questioned.

"Amazing how reading a little history can go a long way."

Emma looked at her. There was a certain coldness in how Valarie answered her question. She now realized why the plan made her feel weird. She'll tell Valarie later.

An order was given and Mojave Rose descended into the valley and drove out of it. The team managed to get a closer look at Valentine's tanks. They were all scorched with dark soot and burn marks on the sides that faced the explosion. Scattered among them all were the remains of the depot. Pieces of concrete and metal in irregular shapes. Where the building once stood was just a crater with smoke emanating from the center. This destruction was the most the team has witnessed, be it in a match or otherwise. The whole thing was exhilarating. The objective now was to take down the remnants of Valentine. They headed out into the open desert. Valarie was out of her hatch, ignoring the wind that battered her body. She looked at her map to determine the next course of action.

"Hmm. They could be anywhere."

She tapped on a sector of the map.

"Let's head east."

All vehicles turned and traveled as Valarie ordered. The SU-14 moved to another location so that it could keep providing artillery support. They drove for an hour without spotting a thing. This fact mystified the team. Where are they?

"What if we're all driving around in circles?" Natalie suggested.

What she suggested wasn't totally out there. It could very well be happening. Valarie issued an order to stop. Where they halted was an overlook which before them was the majesty of the Arizona wilderness.

"Well…how about that." Valarie remarked.

The scene oozed a sense of tranquility which was ironic considering the sport they were participating in involved shooting each other with military armored vehicles. Valarie was enamored by the landscape. She truly loved the desert. Her crew were out of their hatches as well. Except for Emma. For the T-44, gunner's didn't get their own hatch. Before, she popped out of the loader's hatch but, of course, Ashley took precedence when she wanted to be out of the tank. Ashley was looking around, no object totally dominating her attention. Unlike Valarie, she could care less about the desert. Being born and living in one made them less special for her. They all look the same, no matter where they are in the world. That and she does sunburn easily which greatly influenced her opinion on deserts. Still, it was a nice change of pace from the interior of the very cozy T-44. That new 100mm gun made space inside the tank a premium. A strong gust of wind hit her from behind, one with more force than usual, which spurred her to turn around. There, she saw something that captured her full and undivided attention.

"Valarie." she uttered.

"What's up?"

"On our six."

Valarie turned around and saw what Ashley saw. Just on the horizon was a coffee-colored cloud of gigantic proportions. The wind now was no longer gusts, they were now a constant presence and getting stronger. A dust storm was rampaging their way.

"Everyone put on your bandannas and eye protection!" Valarie commanded.

The team complied without hesitation. Valarie glanced back at the storm and with an uneasy feeling saw how it was gaining ground fast. She closed her hatch.

"Seal your vehicles the best you can and triple check your hatches are closed tight."

Valarie ensured that the interior of the T-44 was secure.

"Can we outrun that storm?" Emma asked

"No. It'll be on us no matter what we do."

The team only had one option at their disposal and that was to drive on for their search for Valentine. They were still nowhere to be seen. As they traversed the terrain, the dust storm got closer and closer. The sky began to darken. It was only a matter of time. Using her periscopes, Valarie saw the blue sky vanish as a brown cloud began to obscure it. The SU-14 was the first of Mojave Rose to become enveloped. The dust storm seized upon them quickly. Millions upon millions of dust and sand particles rattled the vehicle. Jacqueline's vision was now totally obscured so she ordered the vehicle to stop. Despite their best efforts, sand managed to seep in and the interior was slowly becoming dusted with the desert.

"Keep everything as clean as you can."

Though they didn't need vision to fire. Even in the middle of a sand storm can they still provide support. They just need the right coordinates to get right to work.

_Elsewhere_

At the spectator's area, people that have come to watch the match have now huddled into the interior of the massive tents that were set up. The storm will hit them too but even such an act of nature is not enough to dissuade any of them to leave. They'll tough it out. If anything, this sand storm made things more exciting. Though not everyone had this enthusiasm. Buchanan was nervous about these turn of events.

"I may already know the answer to this question, but, the Association will _not_ delay the match on the account of a sand storm enveloping the field of play, huh?" Redwood questioned

"A volcano could erupt right next to one of the teams and these assholes wouldn't care. If it boosts ratings then why not put young teenagers in danger?" Buchanan responded with a tinge of venom.

Redwood held her hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

"Maintenance afterwards will be annoying but the team will pull through." Redwood said.

Buchanan sighed sharply.

"Yeah, they will. As I said before…"

"There's something special about this team." Redwood finished

The couple returned their attention to the match.

_At The Battlefield_

A few minutes later and the storm has reached the rest of the team. Visibility plummeted as people could only barely see the vehicles immediately in front of them. They drove slowly as going quickly while partially blind only invited bad news. Some of the vehicles had headlights but were forbidden from turning them on as doing so would only announce their presence and make them easy targets. Those with turrets turned as they scanned the immediate area.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." remarked Sage.

"It'll be a miracle for anyone to find anything."

They pressed on. Some tanks dipped unexpectedly as they drove onto depressions in the land which startled crews but nothing they couldn't manage. Others accidentally bumped into friendly tanks and the radio channels were filled with apologies. For all of them, particles of sand seeped into their vehicles. Cleaning will certainly be annoying but for now, they were hyper-focused on getting through this match. There was this paranoia, a fear that at any moment a shot would originate from the depths of the storm and take them out much like an assassin the night. This paranoia grew to a point where at times some tanks braked hard and aimed at what they thought was the enemy but was just a rock or vegetation silhouetted against the storm. The team's advance has been reduced to a crawl. A cautious crawl.

One of the commanders, Haley, was going through her viewports, one by one. She stopped at one. In the distance was something…what was it? A blurred silhouette was all could she see followed by another, then another. As these objects became closer their silhouettes became unmistakable.

"4 o'clock! Enemy spotted!"

The Jumbo stopped in its tracks and turned toward the approaching figures. It took aim at one of the larger objects and fired. The shell hit and penetrated. The ARL was now out of action. Flashed erupted from the figures as Valentine retaliated. Both teams got turned around in the storm and were now in a close-range engagement. Mojave Rose's flag tank, the ACIV, fell back letting others take point. The IS-3, pike pointed toward the enemy, weathered shot after shot sent their direction. With slow and careful aim, it sighted and knocked out one of the last remaining Churchills. Valentines shots were totally ineffective so they initiated a withdraw, losing more of their vehicles in the process.

"Pursue." ordered Valarie.

The enemy drove into the storm and disappeared. Undeterred, Valarie instructed that the team fire into the storm. A few volleys were fired but as they drove on it was revealed that they were all misses.

"Pick up the pace! They can't be too far."

The light and medium tanks of the team accelerated, with the IS-3 struggling to keep up. Soon, the outlines of T-34s appeared. A shot from the Cromwell took one out which made the others speed up even more. Before they entirely disappeared, Valarie spotted the outline of the KV-1 and protruding from its turret was something flailing wildly in the storm.

"The KV-1 is the flag tank."

Valarie took a look at the map and deduced where the KV-1 was going to be.

"_Sierra…_fire mission."

Jacqueline listed closely as Valarie relayed to her the coordinates. The crew set out to work. Taking into account that they were in the middle of a storm, the shell was loaded and the gun aimed.

"Ready to fire!"

Valarie mentally counted to estimate as accurately as she could to ensure the KV-1 would be at the right place.

"Fire."

A shell was now away and flung toward the target. Jacqueline and Valarie both counted the seconds till impact. Not long after, as they both predicted, a bright flash manifested in front of the T-44 accompanied by a loud explosion. Valarie stopped and looked toward the radio. Silence. Not one soul on the team said a word nor was there any announcement from match officials that the match has concluded and that the victory was theirs. Frustrated, she ordered all vehicles to drive forward. The T-44 sped ahead of the team. Valarie was curious to learn what had transpired. With their poor vision, they drove for scarcely for a minute before nearly crashed into the rear of the KV-1. It was motionless. The artillery blast hit near the machine which destroyed its tracks but not enough damage to knock it out. The turret not moving let Valarie know that the crew was stunned as a result of the artillery strike. They were vulnerable, something that Valarie will exploit. The remaining vehicles of Valentine, noticing that their flag tank was immobilized, turned around to come to their aide. They opened fire but the storm caused them to miss. Valarie laid her hand on Emma's shoulder.

"Rear of the turret."

The 100mm cannon was aimed directly where Valarie ordered, to a still unmoving turret.

"End it."

A flash erupted in the middle of the obscured battlefield. At point-blank range, the T-44 executed the KV-1. The shell ruthlessly planted at the backside of the turret. A moment later, a white flag popped up. In the midst of a ravaging sand storm, Mojave Rose has secured not only a victory but a smashing one Valarie yearned for. Better yet, it was achieved without causalities A fantasy made reality. Their return to the spectator's area coincided with the end of the storm and the reemergence of the sun. Upon the team departing their vehicles, a myriad of reporters took numerous pictures of them for they can sense they go a good story here. In a private area, the celebrated with Redwood and Buchanan.

"You guys can certainly put on a show!" Redwood exclaimed

"Amazing! It's very uncommon for a team to suffer no casualties. This is one hell of a victory!" Buchanan complimented.

The reward ceremony was as glamorous as ever though the stage was covered with sand. At the end of it, the team rested in one of the tents when a girl walked in. Now expecting this, Valarie went to greet her.

"Let me hazard a guess…" Valarie began.

"You are the captain of Valentine's tankery team and you are going to hand me your number so that we can remain in contact."

The girl was flummoxed.

"Wow…spot on."

Valarie laughed.

"Well, it already happened twice before."

Valentine's captain put on a smile and was rather cheerful for someone suffering a huge loss.

"My name is Lisa. You. Fucked. Us. Up. Like…man…that was just bad."

Lisa got close to Valarie.

"Between you and me…I'm partially relieved. Traveling stressed me the hell out and the prospect of going across the country for a match just makes my stomach turn."

"I can understand that. Not wanting to be away from home. I can relate to that in a way. Though I am more than happy to travel."

"Well, better you than me."

Lisa then put her hands to her face.

"Oh god I can already imagine the headlines. 'St. Valentine's Massacre'. Lord. We'll never hear the end of it. If any of our Valentine tanks got hit it just be worse."

"Just gotta take it in stride. Make it fun."

"Yeah, I guess we'll do that. Anyway, here's that number you so expertly foresaw."

"Thanks."

Valarie put the number away. Before Lisa departed she had one more thing to say.

"Hey…from one desert school to another, good luck. We'll be rooting for ya."

They shook hands and Lisa left. Valarie felt that Lisa wasn't too upset over such a defeat. It was just a game at the end of the day. Rivalry is not unique to the sport of tankery. In any area that elicits competition, rivalries are inevitable. In moderate doses, a rivalry can make things exciting and fun for those competing. But there is a line and occasionally it is crossed and sadly, it can become violent. In sports, the times where rivalry turns to hostility is unfortunately high. In stadiums and arenas that host games such as football and baseball, a disagreement between players on opposing teams can lead to outright brawls in which all the players spontaneously become fighters. Tankery is not immune to this. Valarie had read some stories of some tankery teams throwing punches at each other be it prior or after a match. The reasons why were always trivial and petty. Someone yells an insult, one thing leads to another, and all of a sudden they're bruised and bleeding. Fans as well can become quite hostile. The best, or worst rather, example that Valarie remembered was something that was not even related to tankery. A beating at Dodger's stadium. In April of 2011, after the Los Angeles Dodgers won against the San Francisco Giants, a Giants fan was beaten viciously by Dodgers fans in the parking lot. He was in a coma for months and when he finally came his life was forever changed. His grievous injuries made it so he had to relearn how to talk, walk, write, and read. This event stuck with Valarie even though baseball wasn't really her thing. Thankfully, nothing as horrible as that hasn't happened at a tankery match and that was something Valarie was determined not to occur. She counted her blessings that so far, the captains of the tankery teams they have faced off in the tournament only offered their friendship which she returned in kind. Taking a page from a tanker she admired.

Dusk has arrived and the spectator's arena was beginning the thin out as people made their leave. The mood was now calm and there was a heavy feeling of exhaustion among all the team. The tankers had their uniforms stained with spent propellant from the shells they have fired. For those in the turret, these strains were more profound. In addition to that, as a result of the sand storm, they were also wearing portions of the Arizona desert. All of that and more combined made for an interesting odor. For Buchanan, it was a smell that she was all too familiar with. It brought back a slew of memories of a time when she had a more active role in tankery. Being in the commander's seat. A part of her missed that but she knew fully well that getting into a tank would be near impossible. It took a herculean effort just to _touch_ the Sherman where she nearly died in. Actually getting inside a tank would require strength that Buchanan didn't believe she had.

"_Ah, whatever._" she thought.

Being a tankery instructor was good enough. A job that she adored. Not to mention a whole lot of fun. Redwood and Buchanan led the team out of the arena and to the bus that was waiting for them. It'll take them back to the motel for a well-deserved rest. Something that they all very much looked forward too.

"It would be smart if you guys take a shower when we get back." Buchanan said

_Sunday_

_Barstow_

It was the early afternoon. At an always open parking lot, only partially populated, a car pulled in. Compared to the rest, however, it was showing its age. It was green in appearance, a subdued green. Due to the harsh Mojave sun, some areas of the car had paint shriveling and peeling off. Though that was the extent of the 'damage', merely cosmetic. In contrast in color was the khaki interior. Katherine parked the vehicle and turned it off. Their Toyota 4Runner wasn't the most flashy vehicle ever manufactured but it was reliable and served the family well. She glanced at the time

1:47 PM.

By the start of her next shift, her daughter would return from Arizona. She would see Valarie after work. The seat was reclined and she closed her eyes. Katherine's relaxation was brief. The rumble of a semi-truck shook her awake. The vehicle parked just nearby. It looked like a new model, definitely made in the last few years. Its color was a warm yellow. Her attention was just about to turn away from the truck when the door flung open and out came her husband, with a pep in his step. She hopped out of the car and ran toward him.

"You…you…!"

"Got it baby!"

An overwhelming sense of joy and relief existed between them. Katherine leaped into her husband's arms as they shared a kiss. A celebration was in order, especially when Valarie returned possibly with a victory to add on to the good news. Katherine, while being held by Preston, eyed the truck. Since the two had some free time right now…why not do some celebrating early?

"I bet there's room for two in that cab."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For one girl, there is a return to normalcy. For the team, their victory has drawn some eyes upon them. One of which, were eyes of ire and conspiracy.

_February 18th, 2013_

_Virginia_

"So that's them?" a girl asked, pointing at the computer screen.

"Yep. That desert school that crushed their opponent in Arizona." responded another.

"Man."

The girl at the computer scrolled the mouse. Images of Mojave Rose appeared, each showing the crews of each vehicle.

"Stop." said one.

She pointed at a picture of the IS-3 crew.

'Is this some kind of joke? Why do they have a male tankery crew?" she remarked in a near disgusted tone.

Another girl joined them.

"Hey ladies, what's with the sour faces…oh."

She pouted. All of them did. They didn't like what they saw at all.

"We're going against that team in April right? The one with the boys?"

The other two nodded.

"Boys have no place in tankery. I can't believe that this…Mojave Rose would just let them join."

"Legally they have to."

"I don't care what the _law_ says and neither should Mojave Rose. They should've bullied those boys out of the team.

"Guess they didn't. Guess Mojave Rose doesn't care about the core principles of tankery."

The three girls looked at each other.

"I'm glad to see that we are all on the same page. I hope you know what we have to do know.

"For the preservation of the sport. We're going to show those fuckers that they don't belong."

The girls began to scheme in private. They would seek out like-minded girls to join their conspiracy with the sole goal of ridding the male presence in tankery.

_Massachusetts_

"They're real contenders now." Caroline said.

"One shot and ten tanks eliminated? At a certain point, it's not luck but skill and they have it."

"Luck ensured they sustained no causalities. That sand storm helped them out, whether they know it or not." Penelope remarked.

"Regardless, we will treat them as a viable threat to us. Bear in mind, Caroline, that there are other schools that have just as much chance to face us in the finals. Don't just worry exclusively on Mojave Rose."

Caroline scowled.

"Worried? I never said I was. I'm just taking account of all possible scenarios."

"Sure."

"Plus…" Caroline continued.

"When our special tank from Patton arrives, it won't matter who we face off. They won't stand a chance. How it's progress, by the way?"

"The turret is being assembled. All those intricate parts make it a laborious task."

"Firm data yet?"

"Nope."

Caroline pouted.

"Be patient, my dear Caroline. It will be here before the final match with enough time to train a crew for it."

"And I got the perfect people in mind." Caroline boasted.

_Catalina School of the Arts Carrier_

_Port of Long Beach_

"You still deadset on giving Mojave Rose that offer?"

"Of course. Even more so after their performance at the Arizona match"

"But the tournament is only halfway over! The competition can only get tougher as more schools get eliminated from play. I said before that—"

"That anyone could 'take their place'. I know. I'm prepared for all contingencies however I still have faith in them.

"Okay, but why them over the rest? What makes Mojave Rose so special? "

The girl closed her eyes and gave off a shrug.

"It's a feeling I cannot properly explain. They give off this…vibe that I love."

A knock at the door stopped their conversation. In entered a student.

"Madison. Alice. Some girls are looking for you both. Something about a…play?"

"Oh yeah." remarked Alice.

"We're on our way."

The student departed. The pair resumed talking.

"How does administration feel about your offer? Ever since you've become president of the student council, they have vetoed every decision you've made that they don't like. What you are proposing to do for the winners of the national tournament is something I don't see them allowing."

Madison crossed her legs and smiled.

"Well, hopefully my arguments will sway them that my offer will benefit everyone involved.

"And if they still won't budge?"

"I have an alternative method of persuasion."

"Explain this…method."

"Nothing gets things going more than a threat."

Alice's eyebrow raised slightly.

"A threat? What are you talking about?"

"My family are generous donors to this fine school. Have been for a long time, far before I was born. I would just need to make one phone call and the cash flow would screech to a halt."

"You're willing to go that far?

"Yes and go even beyond that if necessary. But, let's hope it doesn't come to that. Anyway, we have a rehearsal to go to. People are waiting."

"Ugh! I forgot to practice my lines!"

"Just improvise. It's what I do."

_Barstow_

"I'll be outta here by Wednesday." Valarie explained.

Her and Emma were sharing lunch together, like always. Thanks to her father's newfound employment, her parents managed to negotiate with the bank to once again own their home with a contract that satisfied all parties. The bank will cede ownership of their home on Wednesday. Emma was ecstatic that Valarie's family were getting things to back to where they were. A huge anxiety was now gone and she felt lighter upon hearing such news. Though, a part of her wished Valarie would stay at her home for just a little longer. Their time together living like roommates was amazing. But that would mean Emma wished Valarie to remain homeless and that was the absolute last thing she wanted.

"You'll be sleeping in your own bed soon in no time." Emma said warmly.

She noticed that Valarie was looking a lot better today. As if a something of unimaginable weight was now off her shoulders. Her eyes no longer had this hint of anxiety, her walk now had its character back. The tone of her voice no longer was of uncertainly but now of confidence. In her thoughts, Emma spoke with herself.

"_God-willing, what you just went through was the most hardest part of your life. I wish I can say that the rest of your life will be smooth sailing but no one can guarantee that. For better or worse…for richer or poorer…in sickness or in health….I will always be with you."_

The bell rang, telling the students that lunch was over. Emma and Valarie stood up and throw away any trash they had on them. They shared a quick embrace and went toward their respective classes. As Emma walked another thought popped into her mind. She recalled what she wanted to talk to Valarie about. She quietly sighed as she knew that this conversation had the potential to be unpleasant. Yet it had to be down. After today's tankery meeting is when she will ask.

_Later_

Monday's meeting started like any other that was after a match. Vehicle maintenance. Though Mojave Rose didn't suffer any causalities during their match with Valentine, thanks to the sudden dust storm, they had to clean their vehicles of all the sand and other desert debris that managed to get within. The garage was loud with the sound of multiple vacuums on full power as they sucked up each and every particle. Once that was accomplished, other care was done as well. Tracks were realigned and vehicles refueled. Gunsights were recalibrated and shells were reloaded. Different tanks had different needs. Some crews didn't need to do much and were done before most. They just stood around. Others were deep in their engines doing what was necessary. Some schools had the luxury of having dedicated mechanics to care for their machines while their crews could focus on their craft. In lieu of that, other schools may just employ the services of their automotive club to do work of their tanks. For Mojave Rose, they had neither. Crews operated and maintained the tanks they ran. It was more work but not one member of the team complained. Some of the team actually enjoyed the days they worked on their vehicles, it was relaxing in a way. After two hours of work, Buchanan called the team together to make some announcements.

"Alright. Two things. One, our next match is in April so we got some breathing room. Two, there is a tankery convention in April out in Houston…"

Upon hearing the word 'Houston', Mia piped up and her eyes had this excited look.

"…where a contest is being held. We're entering it."

Eager gasps came from the team. This was something new.

"What's the contest?" Valarie questioned

"A race. Fastest vehicle to complete the track wins a Panther II."

"A..Panther II!" Valarie yelled out with an excited vigor.

One of the more rarer German tanks, one that would cost a fortune for any school to have in their line up. For Mojave Rose, buying a Panther II would utterly drain their finances. With the features the tank boasted, it was no wonder that it commanded a high price. It was slightly better armored and faster than its predecessor Panther even though it was heavier. Though when Germany was designing this tank intended that the vehicle have the 75mm as did the Panther I, the Panther II that could be won had the 88mm as it had the Schmalturm turret. This turret was narrow yet still housed the same three crew as before. On this turret was two bulges on either side. That was the stereoscopic rangefinder. Yet the best feature of all was the infra-red gear. Attached to the top of the commander's hatch and the driver's hatch was IR equipment, which allowed the vehicle to operate at night as well as it did during the day. Such tools were _expensive. _Companies that made them had to ensure that they only used the same materials the Germans used when making it themselves during the war. Some were lucky and managed to get some authentic ones from some warehouse which were refurbished and sold. For the rest, it was a painstaking process to ensure they were as accurate as possible. It would be a sin to miss an opportunity like this.

"It goes without saying that we'll be using our fastest vehicle here."

All eyes were upon the Puma crew.

"Aha…guess that's us huh?" Aurora let out.

"We got some time between now and then. We'll help get your vehicle race-ready." Buchanan comforted.

Aurora convened with her crew.

"Okay then. This is happening. A chance to flex our skills." she boasted.

In another part of the garage, another tanker was as excited.

"Oh man…Houston." Mia uttered.

The Texas city was a place she been wanting to go for years. It was a dream for her.

"You've waited all your life for this. You can wait more two months." Olivia remarked.

With work done for today, the team was dismissed. Valarie and Emma returned home and the pair lounged around in their room. As they were relaxing, Emma decided that now was the time to tell her what was on her mind.

"Valarie. I think I got it figured out." Emma said.

"Figured what out?"

"Why your strategy made me feel weird. There was this malice. I got it now."

Valarie glanced at her before looking away.

"I don't understand what you mean."

"At the valley, the team could have easily eliminated the enemy since we had the high ground with concentrated fire. But no, you wanted them to suffer by exploding a gas depot right next to them. I looked up how hot gasoline burns. Nearly 2000 degrees Fahrenheit!"

Valarie continued to look away.

"They've been in that depot for decades. All that time degrades its quality not to mention not all those barrels were fully filled with gas. Sure, they felt the heat but they were never in true danger." Valarie explained

"True danger?" Emma exclaimed, near mocking.

"Did you really know it was gas? What if it was something else? Oil? Some other chemical? Or was it all just a reckless guess?"

"I know what I'm doing Emma. What I did was just an excellent use of artillery. Something any competent commander would do."

Emma stepped closer and put her hands on her hips.

"What's your excuse with the KV-1 then?"

Valarie still didn't look at her.

"What do you mean?"

"You and I both know that the new 100mm would've knocked out that tank no matter where we shoot. A shot at the engine would've been fine. Instead, you told me to shoot them are the rear of the turret. If you remember your literature classes, you would know that symbolism is often subtle. That was blunt."

"You're not a captain so you just don't understand. One day when you are one yourself, you'll see things from my point of view."

"I don't need to be a captain to know that you used Valentine as your punching bag because of all the hardship you went through. It's not fair to them!"

Silence.

"Am I right?"

More silence.

"Look at me."

Finally, Valarie turned around. Tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Fuck you."

The two girls looked at each other. Emma was beyond stunned that Valarie swore at her. In the history of their friendship, sure, they have been frustrated with each other but not angry and never have they swore at each other. Emma felt her throat tightened as she walked to her bed and sat upon it. Her head was pointed down, her hair obscuring her face. Valarie heard her cry which flooded her with guilt. She approached her best friend and reached out and held her hand.

"Emma…I'm sorry. You're right."

Valarie wiped away her tears.

"I care about you." Emma said amid sniffles.

"I was scared that you being homeless changed you and made you bitter. That you wouldn't be the person I lo—ahem…the person I knew anymore."

They both looked at each other and hugged.

"I was the person you feared. I was angry, bitter, and frustrated. The strategy reflected that. Look, I am changed as a result of being homeless as would anyone. But I am determined to be stronger than ever."

The girls broke the hugged and held the hands of each other with a tight grip.

"And I'll be with you every step of the way."

The relationship between the girls from that day forward has forever changed. The bond they shared has strengthened to a point where it will never be shattered. They were a level above being best friends but not yet at the next stage of human companionship. That, they both feel, was approaching. The question was who will confess their feelings first.

_Wednesday_

A dormant house had its doors unlocked and opened once more. In entered the Woodlin family, at last reunited in their home. Other than the heaviest furniture, the house was empty. They all took in the situation and set to work. Back and forth they went to the car and the interior putting things back to their originals places. Over time, the house filled with their items and soon and sense of warmth and belonging returned. Valarie spent most of the time in her room getting things in order. She was looking at her closet, now filled with her clothes. On the back of her door hung her uniform, neat and ready for action. Her attention turned to her bed where she laid a blanket on it. Her room was now as it was before, much to her immense satisfaction. It was 10:30 in the night when everything was settled. The family congregated in the living room. They all relaxed on the couch with Valarie all snuggled in between her parents. The emotions they all felt as of intense tranquility. Her mother no longer had pull long shifts at the welding shop and had her hours normalized. Her father would hit the road come tomorrow. Normalcy has returned.

"This couch feels more comfortable than ever before." her dad joked.

They spent a few more minutes just sitting before it was time for bed. In her room, Valarie slipped into her sleepwear and went and opened the window. In came in a cool breeze. She enjoyed the ambiance that also made its entrance. The nearby I-15 with all the cars, trucks, and bikes traveling to their destinations. There was also the occasional distant blast of a train's whistle along with the fly-by of airplanes and helicopters. All of this provided for the perfect environment for Valarie to sleep. And that she did. The best rest she ever had.

_Thursday_

That day's meeting was routine. Redwood and Buchanan were in the office taking care of business. Though this time, Buchanan was sitting next to Redwood rather than sitting was on the other side of the desk.

"Our next match is all the way in Montana. Geez, that's quite the distance." Redwood informed.

"Like hell we're taking a bus all the way there. Let's take a flight." Buchanan suggested.

Redwood worked on his computer for a bit.

"Yep…a flight will be best. It's not too pricey. Might as well take a flight to Houston for the convention. On a bus, the trip would take 22 hours give or take."

"Sounds good."

Redwood turned away from the computer.

"But that's April. Anything that needs attention now?"

Buchanan pondered for a moment then looked right at Redwood with a smile.

"Us."

"…what?"

"Us. We need some time for ourselves."

Redwood was slightly confused.

"Are you talking about a—"

"Yes. You. Me. On a date. Have a day where we can forget all our obligations and worries. It's been ages I've been on a date. You?"

"It's been a while, I admit."

"Cool. Sunday then."

"What do you wanna do?"

Buchanan shrugged.

"Dunno. We'll figure it out."

Elsewhere in the garage, Mia was having a talk with Valarie.

"Do you think we'll get some time to sightsee when we're in Houston?" Mia asked.

"I assume so. We're only being there for the race and the whole convention lasts a week. I doubt it'll take up all the time. What do you want to see over there?"

Mia was elated when Valarie asked. With the hugest grin, she answered.

"The Johnson Space Center, home of the ever famous mission control!"

"Oh, so you like space and all that?"

"I love it!" Mia exclaimed, almost yelling.

"I've always wanted to go there. I've been to the propulsion laboratory in Pasadena over the previous summer. It. Was. Magical."

Mia rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a key chain. It was of Mars with little crosses dotted across it.

"These are the landing sites of all the rovers. See, there's _Pathfinder_, _Sojourner,_ _Opportunity_, and the latest one, _Curiosity_." Mia explained, eagerly pointed to all the markings.

"You know your stuff, huh?" Valarie remarked.

"Ha! That's putting it lightly…" Mia responded.

She then got out another key chain. It depicted a planet but it was incredibly blurry. The words etched on it said,

"_Time for your closeup!"_

"Guess what planet this is." Mia asked.

She handed it to Valarie who studied it closely. After a few moments, she gave up.

"I don't know…it's too hazy."

"Read the back."

Valarie flipped the key chain and read the little info paragraph.

"Ooooh…Pluto! Yeah, we don't have good pictures of that thing."

"Not _YET!_" Mia yelled, startling Valarie.

"Back in 2006, the _New Horizons_ space probe launched from Cape Canaveral with its target being Pluto. In two years, in 2015, it'll fly by the planet and finally take good pictures of it."

Mia then smiled more.

"My name is on the probe, ya know."

Valarie was surprised.

"Really? How?"

"Simple. I just went on NASA's website and signed an online form and boom, my name is on a spacecraft billions of miles away."

"That's…pretty damn cool. You sure do love space." Valarie commented.

"I love space as much as you do tanks."

What Mia said painted everything in a perfect picture.

"So, you wanna be an astronaut then?"

Mia laughed.

"Ha. Maybe. I'd love any job with NASA…though maybe I'm dreaming too big."

Valarie wrapped her arms around Mia.

"Hey, dreaming big got people into space in the first place."

"Will dreaming big get us to win the tournament?"

"There's only one way to find out."

The conversation ended and the two girls departed. As Valarie walked back to her tank, a thought entered in her mind. What are the passions of the other commanders? So far, she had only known them in a 'professional' capacity. Meaning, she and the commanders nearly exclusively talked about tankery. Learning more about them will be a great bonding experience. A closer-knit team will surely be a more effective one.

Right before the team was dismissed, Buchanan had one more thing to say to them.

"I forgot to mention this yesterday. Despite just getting two new vehicles, we are still on the lookout for more. If you got any leads please tell me or Mr. Redwood. We can have never have enough tanks."

New tanks? No one on the team had seen new vehicles since their day at the junkyard. Of course, they hadn't really tried to look. Though, if they were any tanks in town they would've seen them already. For Redwood and Buchanan, they knew full well that Barstow and the Mojave at large were tapped out of tanks. They were either scrapped long ago or beyond repair as a result of the sport losing popularity in the 1990s. Everyone would have to search beyond where they live to find some armor. Thankfully, Valarie had some contacts that could lend a helping hand. Upon returning home, she got out her phone and first sent a text to Isabella, Bascom's tankery captain.

"Hi. You know where a team could get some new tanks?"

Minutes later and a response arrived.

"Sorry, not that I know of. Will keep an eye out."

No dice. Maybe Sam, captain of Oceanside's team, will get something for them. A text was sent. Minutes go by and nothing. Whatever. She had one more contact. A message was sent to Lisa. Soon she replied,

"Nope. Lotta schools around here so it makes tanks scarce."

Disappointing. Valarie set her phone aside and laid on her phone. She closed her eyes and rested. Valarie didn't know how much time gone by when she then felt a vibration. Her phone received a new message. It was Sam.

"We may have something for you." the message read.

Attached was a message that was loading.

"The question is…how desperate are you guys for new vehicles?"

The image finally loaded. Valarie opened the attachment and saw what Sam had sent. Soviet tank destroyer, SU-100. At least that was what she thought it was. The machine was in a horrid condition. It was stained beyond belief with the iconic green camouflage of soviet vehicles impossible to see. Some of the hatches were gone, not dismounted, but torn off as the hinges that would have held them in place were extensively damaged. The tracks were missing as well leaving the road wheels and drive sprockets bare, which they too weren't in the best shape. To top it all off, the vehicle was covered with graffiti. The SU-100 was in the worst condition a vehicle Valarie has ever seen short of total destruction. She had some questions.

"What happened to that thing?"

Sam went on to explain.

"During a practice with the thing bad luck made it tumble down a hill. Some of the hatches that were open were shredded off. The tracks snapped in pieces, some of which we still find sometimes. All the rattling messed with the engine bad. It's near inoperable."

The SU-100 looks like it went through hell.

"What's with the graffiti?" Valarie asked

"Some students from a rival school we beat came and tagged the thing. Sore losers."

"And you haven't cleaned it yet?"

"When it got vandalized it was the final straw for us. No one wanted anything to do with it and its former crew moved on to another tank. It's dead weight."

"Can it still shoot?"

"Possibly."

Everything Sam had shared with Valarie wasn't good. Nonetheless, she was confident that the team could restore the machine to its former glory.

"How much for the SU?"

There was no immediate response. Then a minute later,

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I will need to talk with some school officials about it first. I will let you know as soon as I can."

The text conversation ended. The SU-100 will be a great asset to the team. Though to be an asset at all it will require a mountain of work. Work that the team will be more than happy to perform. That is if Oceanside is willing to sell it. Guess the only thing to do now was wait.

_Thursday_

The following day, Valarie and Emma together departed the they walked toward the entrance they noticed a group of students surrounding something. They could hear sounds of excited chatter with some taking pictures. Intrigued, Valarie motioned that they check it out. They maneuvered through the crowd and saw what was drawing all the attention. Mounted on a newly-installed stone pedestal was the old turret of the T-44, with its 85mm gun pointed high in the sky.

"Like the new art?" Redwood asked upon seeing the girls.

"It's great! Better than having it lying around taking up space." Valarie responded, delighted.

"Oh I can't take all the credit. Some students from the art class proposed the idea and helped make it real."

The new art installation was a surreal experience for both Valarie and Emma. They saw all the scratches accumulated over time. It gave the thing character. They fondly remembered the times they were fired upon with the turret holding its own. After a few more moments of gazing and reminiscing, they went to their respective classes.

_Later_

"That thing is messed up." Emma commented.

In her hand was Valarie's phone. She was showing her the image of the SU-100.

"Yeah but not beyond repair." Valarie said

"If the price is right, I'll try to convince both Ms. Buchanan and Mr. Redwood to purchase it."

"To be honest, I wouldn't spend a buck on that. It's a stiff breeze away from collapsing." Emma remarked.

Valarie playfully shrugged when she then saw her phone vibrate in Emma's hand.

"That must be her."

Emma passed back the phone where Valarie unlocked it and read the new message. Her eyebrows raised and eyes widened as she did.

"What? Too expensive?" Emma asked.

"No…they're offering to give it to us for free."

"Free? She serious?"

"Yup."

They stared at each other.

"Well. What a turn of events." Valarie commented.

That afternoon, at the tankery meeting, Valarie found both Redwood and Buchanan and got a meeting with them in the garage office. She relayed the offer to them.

"I don't know. Whenever schools give away tanks, they are either shutting down their tankery team or it has a massive problem that's hidden. Though, in our case, the problem is out in the open. The vehicle is just one bad day away from being totaled."

"I've seen vehicles in worse shape. Then again they did explode." Buchanan added.

"You can't beat free." Valarie said.

Redwood rubbed his brow and thought for a moment.

"The amount of labor required to get that thing moving would be staggering…not to mention expensive."

Both Valarie and Buchanan eyed Redwood.

"Martin…we're not spending a penny on some maintainer." Buchanan assured.

"Well, if we're getting it, how else do we get it operational?"

"Mr. Redwood. You do realize that in this garage is a small army of mechanics?" Valarie reminded

"We fixed up our vehicles from the junkyard and have maintained them ever since by ourselves. My crew has the engine layout of the T-44 imprinted in their minds due to the amount of time we've spent in there. We've become incredibly efficient at what we do and I am willing to bet good money that each and every member of this team shares this sentiment. Mr. Redwood. Ms Buchanan. Get that tank and I promise you both, we will get that thing operational and ready to roll the day it arrives."

Redwood was surprised over the vigor Valarie has displayed. Buchanan sported a beaming smile. _That_ is how a captain of a tankery acts.

"Okay Valarie. We'll accept Oceanside's offer. I'll take care of all the arrangements."

"Thanks!"

Pleased, Valarie left the office leaving the two adults alone.

"She has that fiery drive. Reminds me of some people I knew when I was in tankery myself." Buchanan remarked, amazed

"You're still in tankery." Redwood corrected.

She blushed and briefly looked away.

"So where is this thing coming from?" she asked

"Long Beach. Though it'll be a while before it'll get here. Not because of distance but all the paperwork. Exchanging tanks between schools involves a lot of red tape."

Mojave Rose was in the process of making another acquisition for their line-up. The question in the minds of people in the know wasn't that if it can be a good asset but if Valarie's boast of fixing the thing in less than a day can hold water. Only time has the answer.

_Sunday_

In the early afternoon, Buchanan arrived at Redwood's home. She walked up and knocked on the door. It opened.

"Hello Gabby. Time for our little date, huh?"

"Yep."

They stood there just looking at each other. There was this wholesome awkwardness.

"I got no clue what to do." she admitted.

"Same here."

Buchanan then had an idea.

"Why not just have our date here?"

"…sure. Why not?"

She entered and the pair sat in the living room. There was a brief silence and another awkwardness between them that was soon replaced with comfort. Buchanan rested her head on his lap.

"Were you doing any work today?" she asked.

"No. Nothing at all."

"Good."

She felt that Redwood was being honest.

"You've been sleeping well?" he asked in a gentle voice.

"Pretty well. No night terrors. But no dreams either. Ah, I guess you can't have it all."

Redwood caressed her hair with one hand while with the other he held her hand in a warm embrace. In the stillness of the room, he listened to her tranquil breathing. His eyes wandered and latched on to her pants. Jeans to be specific. He had always seen her in jeans ever since she first became the school's tankery instructor. Perhaps it was a trivial thing to think about it. Though as he looked at her jeans more, he decided to ask.

"You always wear jeans, Gabby, why?"

"The reason why is simple." Buchanan answered.

She raised her leg into the air, grabbed the cuffs of her jeans, and pulled it down revealing her leg. It was covered with burn scars, most of which faded as the years gone by but were still noticeable.

"Oh…" Redwood uttered.

"I'm sorr—"

"Don't apologize. Since we're a couple, you were going to see that"

Buchanan gripped his hand tighter.

"Ever since that day I did whatever I could to hide my injuries. The best way was being a recluse. It was an awful time in my life, in case you didn't know."

"Yeah, I figured. But you just showed my your scars without even hesitating.

"I'm comfortable with you…you wouldn't hurt me."

"Never."

Buchanan rose from his lap and gave Redwood a kiss. They resumed what they were doing and remained in that position for half an hour.

"Is this all you want to do?" Redwood questioned

"Not quite."

She lifted her head and was now on top of him. They wrapped their hands around each other and began to cuddle.

"This is all I want to do right now."

The loving embrace the two couple shared is what Buchanan yearned for the most. Missing for over twenty years. Redwood held her firmly but there was also a tenderness to it. She had never felt more wanted in her life. Throughout her life, Buchanan was afflicted with self-doubt. She got into tankery as a way to build her confidence. Ever since her near-death experience, her self-esteem has plummeted. She had always doubted that she'd pull herself together and that she'd live and die as a recluse. Doubted that she would do anything of note. The past few months changed everything. A new purpose and a new chapter in her life. A road to being fully healed from her past, one where she won't have to travel alone.

She didn't doubt herself anymore.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the Mojave Rose team continues to sharpen their skills in preparation for the match in April. Though, they have some time between now and then so there isn't a terrible rush. For Redwood, he risks his job to help his now girlfriend, Buchanan, overcome the events of her past. Heather and Ashley make a private bet and the once judgemental Natalie issues an apology. For one shy and reserved girl, she not only battles her anger and anxiety, but also herself.

_February 25th, 2013_

_Salt Lake City, Utah_

Midday. The weather was mild with the sun being pleasantly warm. The sky was blessed with white puffy and tranquil clouds. They floated gracefully. In the city, people were out and about as they went about their business. A plethora of faces of varied expressions. Among the ever-morphing crowd was a middle-aged dressed professionally. She was on her way to have lunch with a dear friend. Buildings were passed and streets were crossed. Having navigating this city for years, she has become highly efficient at getting place to place. A brisk walk and she arrived at the restaurant. It had an outdoor dining area and sitting at one of the tables was her friend, who waved her to come over.

"Sarah! Hey! Come over here!"

Smiling, Sarah walked over and sat at the table. Her style of sitting was relaxed.

"Zoey…how's work?"

Zoey shifted in her seat and stretched. A twist of her back produced a crack. Her hands then rested behind her head.

"Ah, well, It's alright you know…same old same old."

"Trouble at work?"

"No, it's just that the days are now all blurred together. Things have become way too routine for my tastes. I want to do something exciting and new."

A waiter walked over and passed the pair menus.

"Well, if you want to do something new, you could order something different from the menu rather than your usual?" Sarah suggested, half-jokingly.

Zoey let out a small laugh.

"Maybe. A small step but I need a huge leap."

"We both do, Zoey."

The women conversed about other aspects of their lives. Drinks were served and they drank as they chatted, Nothing heavy, just tea and coffee.

"A vacation, perhaps?" Sarah said.

"Hmmm…I could…but where?"

Sarah shrugged. She looked around the area. The tables around them were sparsely populated for most of the restaurant's patrons elected to dine indoors. There was an outdoor television mounted on the wall closest to them. It was tuned to the news, with the people on-screen reporting on recent happenings in the sports world. Here, the tankery convention was advertised. Sarah's eyes lit up.

"Hey, the tankery convention! That's different!"

"The convention? Really? I don't know…"

"It's been _so long_ since our time with the tankery team! Will you think about it, commander?"

Zoey's mind was flooded with memories. It has been ages since she had been called 'commander.'

"Remember our last day with the team? Before we went to college?" Sarah reminisced.

"How could I forget? Our team was disbanded. Everyone was crying…God…it wasn't how I wanted my time with the sport to end."

A brief silence as both women become solemn. Then, Sarah spoke.

"Do you think…they're still there?"

"After all these years? Yeah. We hid them well."

"Did we make the right choice?"

"Never doubted it. Like hell our tanks are going to be scrapped."

They clinked drinks.

"So, that convention…?" Sarah asked

"Oh, I dunno. I gotta sleep on it."

Zoey drank her coffee. As the liquid was being poured down her throat, she glanced toward the television. What she saw on the screen caused her to go on a coughing fit. She pounded on a table trying to recover,

"Zoey! You alright?"

"The…T…V…" Zoey said out of breath.

She took in big gulps of air and went straight toward the television with Sarah right behind. The pair stood right before it.

"What did you see?" questioned Sarah.

"Something that I thought I'd never see again."

The women paid full attention to what the television was saying.

"—in Arizona. This California school achieved a massive victory against their opponent, notably, eliminating ten armored vehicles with a single strike. They received no casualties of their own which was uncommon in the sport of tankery. The sudden appearance of a dust storm made the match that more exciting. " the newscaster reported.

More info was divulged and pictures of tanks were shown on screen.

"There!" Zoey exclaimed, pointing at the Jumbo

"Good God…it really is. That's ours." Sarah uttered.

"…and the SU-14! Cheryl commanded that!"

"This school has our old tanks. Somehow, they found them and are using them in their own team. Ha! Better than just rusting in some mine. Say…who are they?" Zoey questioned.

Sarah examined the screen.

"Ahhh….Mojave Rose."

"Them? Must've revived their tankery team. Wonder if our old high school did the same…"

Zoey then had an idea.

"Hey…if they managed to get this far into the tournament., then they could possibly make a visit to that convention."

Sarah looked at her with eyes filled with glee.

"You've made your decision then?"

"Yeah. You and I are going to Houston come April. We'll pay those kids a visit."

_Barstow_

The day's meeting was underway. The team was in Room 34 continuing their work learning Morse code. They were now becoming quite proficient at it. Team members were eager to show off what they have learned in a match. As the team did their exercises, Ashley did her work slowly. She now tolerated the work but remained the least enthusiastic of all people in the room. She removed her headphones and set down the transmitter. The room was loud with the sound of people clicking and messing with their Morse code machines. Her eyes wandered to find something remotely interesting to look at. Her sight latched on to Redwood and Buchanan sat at the desk at the corner of the room. They were both working on the administrative side of the team. She saw how they were both smiling and would occasionally let out a soft laugh. Ashley spotted Buchanan's hand laid of Redwood's shoulder and was caressing it. She nudged Heather, who was sat right beside her.

"Psst…Heather. Look at Mister Redwood and Miss Buchanan. Don't make it obvious though." Ashley said in a hushed tone.

Heather made a quick glance at the two adults of the room then looked back at Ashley.

"MmmHmm. They're a couple." she concluded confidently.

"Yeah, I'd bet good money that if they were along they'd be making out. Hey…do you think they already had—"

Heather softly put her hand on Ashley's mouth, which silenced her.

"I don't like where this conversation is going, no ma'am. It makes me uncomfortable."

Ashley pushed Heather's hand away from her.

"You don't even know what I was going to say. I could've said 'date'."

Heather put her hands together and a small smile appeared.

"Yes, but getting to know you in the past few months tells me otherwise."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. What you were going to say was something more…intimate. Something private."

"Whatever you say."

Ashley took a look toward Valarie and Emma. Both were focused on their exercises. With their headphones, they couldn't hear a word that they were saying. They were in their own world as they clicked away with their transmitters. Looking at the girls reminded Ashley of something.

"I got something to share about those two." Ashley said.

"Oh?" Heather remarked, inching closer.

"Though…maybe I shouldn't say…" Ashley said with a smirk.

"Yes, you do. You're just teasing me."

"Ah, I guess you do know me pretty good."

She got closer.

"Okay, when the team went to Phoenix for the match and we were all in that motel, I awoke early to find Valarie and Emma together in the bed."

"Oh God, you didn't catch them in the middle of—" Heather stopped herself. Her cheeks were red

"No…no. They were just sleeping. But even just seeing something like that gets a person thinking." Ashley said.

"Would you be surprised if they got together?" asked Heather.

"Not at all. They're inseparable. Known each other longer than they have known us or anyone else in this room. Hell, Emma took Valarie in when she was homeless, and, well, you gotta love someone to do that."

"True."

Now it was Heather who was smirking.

"You mentioned betting earlier…how about we actually do one?" she propositioned.

"Oooh, a bit of a gambler are ya? I like it." Ashley responded.

"What's the bet?"

"Truthfully, it's only a matter of time before Emma and Valarie become a couple. But who will make the first move? I got twenty on Valarie. Being the captain and all, requires this confidence and assertiveness that I feel will spill over to how she goes about her relationships." Heather said.

"Twenty on Emma. When she gets excited she just can't hold it in. She'll blurt it out first."

They shook hands.

"It's on. I'm going to get something nice for myself with forty dollars." Heather boasted.

"Wow, I would've never pegged you as a cocky person."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Ashley."

Ashley merely responded with a sly smile. They resumed their Morse code exercises. The room was rife with activity. At the end of the hour, Buchanan called them to attention.

"Alright everyone. We got some news."

She turned on a projector and continued talking as it warmed up.

"We've made a new acquisition. A tank destroyer. Though, there is a hitch."

The machine activated and an image of the SU-100 was projected in its decrepit state. It drew gasps and winces from the room as they looked on. Face after face was of puzzlement and shock.

"We're getting this vehicle for free along with some ammo for the gun. But it is up to us to repair it and get it ready for a match. Valarie said that we could do this the day it arrives, this Saturday."

Buchanan partially expected the team to face Valarie and scold her for making such a promise. She was anticipating a tense exchanged and was prepared to defuse. Instead, the team continued to surprise her, and delightfully so.

"We can do that, no problem." Robin said.

"All of us working on one tank? Easy. We'll be done by lunch! Hey…can we do a potluck that day?" Ray suggested.

The team seized on the idea.

"We can make it like, uh, a repair party! Yeah…those exist I think." Sage added.

"It's a party then." Buchanan declared.

"Bring what you can, but first and foremost, it is a repair day."

The team was dismissed not too long afterward. Once they all dispersed from the room, Buchanan and Redwood chatted.

"A party huh? What a great idea, this team deserves it." he said

"Yeah, it will make an otherwise mundane day fun.

Buchanan picked up her things and wore her jacket.

"That's another day done and dusted. You got any plans for tonight?" she asked

Redwood stopped his work on the computer.

"I got some work for the district to look forward too." he informed.

"Oh…" Buchanan said disappointingly

"We can do something tomorrow then."

"We will." Redwood replied.

He gave her a peck on the check. Buchanan left with a blush. Now alone, Redwood got to typing on the computer. He waited for a minute to ensure that Buchanan had truly left. He didn't have any work for the district, it was just a little lie so that she wouldn't suspect a thing. Something that would very much displease her but Redwood fully believed was necessary. In the search bar he typed,

"_Mojave tankery friendlies."_

A myriad of results appeared though the only relevant one was the top result, a local news article from 1990. How strange, Redwood thought, that no mainstream news sources had anything about the 1990 match. He didn't think about it for too long as he clicked on the link. The title of the article read,

"_Tank torched at match; crew injured."_

Redwood read the article.

"_During a friendlies match a tank was hit and had its fuel tanks ignited. The cause is, as of now, undergoing investigation. The crew of the doomed tank suffered burns and smoke inhalation with the commander being enduring the most. The shot originated from a Jagdpanther, a German tank destroyer. In the interest of privacy, the American Tankery Association will not release the names of all parties involved." _

Redwood rubbed his face.

"Damn. No names?" he complained

He continued to see if there was any other information that he can use.

"_The schools involved were Mojave Rose and Westfield High. Both institutions declined to comment."_

"Westfield, huh?"

Redwood looked up the school. He browsed through their website. Of course, they wouldn't mention a word about the incident. They did, however, have a section on their tankery team. Another search let Redwood know that they have restarted their team as well, thanks to state funding. Though Mojave Rose won't be seeing them in the tournament as they were eliminated in the second round. Yet, if Westfield is a properly managed school, they would have kept good records. Including anything relating to tankery, even if such records had a multi-decade gap. And, these records will have the names of people that participated in Westfield's tankery team over the years. For Redwood, there was only one name he sought.

The gunner of the Jagdpanther during that day in 1990.

Being a vice-principal, Redwood hoped that he had enough clout to request those records. He'll give Westfield a call tomorrow. For now, he shut down the computer and headed out. It was getting late and he wanted to get some good sleep.

_Tuesday_

If there was any place on earth that was a nexus of frustration and futility, it was Room 13 on the second floor of the science building. It was the chemistry class with incorporated lab stations. Ever since the first day of the semester, Valarie had struggled with the class. Lectures, worksheets, quizzes and tests all brought her down in every way. There wasn't a spark of joy to be felt. Not even from the experiments that were occasionally done. Normally, they were something people looked forward to as they showcased the practical applications of chemistry. Valarie didn't like them one bit. In fact, it was the experiments that she loathed the most. It was there where she felt the most lost, the most incompetent. On days where experiments were done, she was always the last student to leave, often with work unfinished. The teacher, being nice as he was, let her finish at a later time but it never diminished the embarrassment.

Valarie doesn't know her grade in the class and she was far too scared to check. She made it a habit to religiously check her home's mailbox and intercept report cards before her parents can get the chance to read them. As far as they knew, Mojave Rose High School didn't mail home report cards. So far, this system has worked with Valarie explaining to her parents that the school has 'gone green'. It required some work but as long as she just got through the semester, it'll be worth it.

Just endure.

The bell rung which snapped Valarie from her daze as her mind tied itself in a knot over a worksheet. Balancing chemical equations hard, okay? She stuffed the paper in her backpack and darted out of the classroom, down the stairs, and right toward the courtyard. Lunchtime. Underneath the familiar palm tree sat Emma, mind blissfully wandering around as she waited for her best friend. Smiles sprouted when the girls matched eyes.

"How was chemistry?" Emma greeted.

"You know how chemistry went."

"I guess I do."

Valarie rested her face on her hands.

"_If_ I ever pass that class, it'll be by the skin of the damn teeth."

Emma rested a hand of Valarie's shoulder and couldn't resist twirling her fingers around.

"Oh, you'll pass. You never failed a class before."

"Yeah…but I came awfully close."

"Let's have some optimism here."

Valarie let out a big sigh.

"I'm trying. Believe me, I am."

Emma scooted closer to her.

"Hey. Ashley is in your class. Why don't you get her to help you?"

"Her way of helping is…unconventional and would only make me have a panic attack."

"How so?"

"Let me start by saying that I treasure my friendship with Ashley. I adore her company. But she's devious! During every test, she has some method of cheating. Always different each time. I remember this one time where she had a wireless earbud hidden under a beanie that told her all the answers."

"Wow. She must have an A-plus in that class."

"A B minus actually. You see, perfect score after perfect score would draw suspicious so she intentionally answers some questions to look 'natural'. She does this cheating so nonchalantly that I believe she has been doing this for _years_."

Emma had a surprised expression.

"Before high school and middle school…maybe all the way back in elementary? " Emma remarked.

"It is most likely that she cheated throughout her entire academic career. To keep it up that long without being caught? I'm more impressed than upset."

"So, I'm assuming you won't be cheating on your tests?"

"Nor will I break into a classroom to change my grade on the teacher's computer."

"Wha—did she really do that?" Emma asked, dumbfounded

Valarie nodded.

"Wow. She can really go above and beyond." Emma commented.

"No kidding. Let's keep that between us, huh? She can get in some serious trouble if that info ever went mainstream."

"Oh, I get that."

They ate their lunches. Silence fell on them as they were occupied with their food. Yet the courtyard was not a quiet place when lunch came around. In all other areas, the sound of conversation dominated. At one table sat two girls. One with long, flowing blonde hair that glistened in the sun. The other was a redhead, whose ginger hair radiated warmth. The blond girl had a magazine in her hand, explaining something to her friend.

"The winners of the tournament, along with a hell of a lot of bragging rights, get this wonderfully designed flag. Take a look."

She flipped to a page and showed her a picture. It displayed a flag mounted on a finely polished wooden pole. The flag itself was of crimson red, bordered by a luxurious gold thread. At the center of the flag was an eagle, in great detail, wings flapping. It too was made of the same gold thread. Clutched in one of its claws was a bundle of tank tracks, wiggling around as if they were snakes. In the other claw was tank rounds. Around this eagle was a golden wreath, an ancient symbol of victory. Underneath all of that was an inscription in an exquisite black thread.

_ INVICTA_

_ MMXIII_

It wasn't just a flag, it was a work of art. The two girls gazed at the photo for a few moments before the talking resumed.

"That is straight-up gorgeous. Seeing it in person must be better than looking at some picture." said the redhead.

"Waving it would be even better." said the blonde.

"Yeah, though a team would have to win it all to do that."

"True. And our school's team is doing pretty good. We got a real shot at this. It got me thinking…"

The blonde produced a signed registration form.

"You're actually doing it?" questioned the redhead.

"Hell yeah, Lana, and I want you to join me. Leah and Kennedy already turned in their forms."

A slow smiled appeared on Lana's face. Things were happening fast and she loved it.

"Alright Nora. This is happening. I'll grab a form and—"

Nora withdrew another registration, this one blank, and slide it toward Lana.

"I figured you'd agree." Nora said, pleased to have predicted correctly.

Lana grabbed the piece of paper and tucked it safely in her backpack.

"I'll turn it in first thing tomorrow morning. Oh man! What tank do you think we'll get?"

"Who knows? I'm no tank nerd. I just hope we're all together and not split up."

_Elsewhere_

The administrative area is one of the lesser-traveled areas of the schools. Students don't go here without reason. It had a certain quietness to it that bordered eeriness. Here, among all the buildings, distant sounds of student activity are echoed, becoming an ambiance. As such, people always feet somewhat weird when coming over here. Nonetheless, it was where Redwood worked for the past fifteen years. In his office, his door was closed. A sign that told other school staff he wished not to be disturbed unless it was urgent. He had a phone call to make. The number that he punched into the dial was one that was only circulated among school officials. Hopefully, this inside line will get him the information he wanted. Phone to his ear, he heard the tone, then a voice.

"Westfield High School." said a female voice.

"Hello, I'm Martin Redwood, Vice Principal of Mojave Rose. I'm calling to see if it is possible to request records of your tankery team."

"Afternoon Mister Redwood. I'm Westfield's secretary. Regarding your request, per ATA regulations, you would need a justification for these records."

"Uh…yeah…of course. I'm…ahh…conducting a demographics survey."

"A survey, eh? Can you go into more detail, please?"

Redwood tugged on his collar.

"Sure. Well, uh, some students at my school have this project regarding tankery. They want to compare the demographics of today's tankery to..uh..1990. I decided to help out to get them the most accurate information."

"Hmm. Please hold." responded the secretary.

Redwood was a nervous wreck. He was afraid that the secretary won't buy his 'justification.'

"Okay Mister Redwood, I had a talk with some of my colleagues in the office. They all like the idea of this survey. One of them will scan and email you the records of our tankery team from the year 1990."

A sigh of relief.

"Thank you. This is much appreciated."

"A pleasure. Though, I have to let you know that the ATA will be informed that our tankery records were accessed."

His heart skipped a beat.

"O-oh? Why is that?"

"Any school that wants their tankery team to participate in ATA-matches has to comply with a whole bunch of rules and regulations. One of which says that schools are obligated to inform the ATA if their tankery records are accessed by a third party. And since the ATA is the only professional tankery organization in the nation, there is no match that isn't managed by them so practically all schools with tankery teams abide by them."

"Hmm. Why would the ATA need to be in the know if the schools themselves decide if the records are given out or not?

"Though the information is sensitive, it is pertaining to _our_ students so we have a say in the manner. I wouldn't think much of this, Mister Redwood. It's all just a formality."

"Alright then. Thanks again and have a good one."

The call concluded and the phone as set down. Redwood touched his forehead and felt something moist. He was sweating.

"Just doing something that would certainly get me fired…Lord." Redwood muttered to himself.

He stared at his computer where his email inbox was on screen. Twenty minutes elapsed when there was a ding. A new message. He opened it and saw that there as an attachment. The records. He opened it and was presented with a wealth of information. Everything and anything related to Westfield's tankery team during the year 1990 was laid out. Service records, supply lists, match descriptions. Then there was a list of tanks the team operated at the team along with the people who crewed them.

_Panzer III…_

_Panzer II…_

_Panther…_

_Jagdpanther…!_

Five people were listed as the tank destroyer's crew. His eyes moved slowly down the list. Then they stopped completely. There it was. The name he has been looking for a while now.

_Gunner: MacKenzie Conner._

The person who nearly killed Gabrielle Buchanan.

"Gotcha."

Redwood was about to search that name on the internet when then his door opened. In the doorway was school staff.

"Sorry to intrude, Mister Redwood, but there has been a fight over by the library."

Redwood stood up from his desk.

"Ah man. Alright, I'm heading over."

His personal business will have to be put on hold for now. There was discipline to dispense.

_Wednesday_

The apartment complex was quiet in the early morning hours. The people who lived there were either still asleep or gone work already. In her unit, Heather was alone. Her parents had gone to work. They always had early hours. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Lonesome morning were something that she has become accustomed to. It was only half-past five o'clock and Heather was already fully dressed and ready for school. She was sat at the granite-topped bar on a stool. Before her was an empty plate, all that remained from the breakfast she had made herself earlier. The lights were off and as it was early, the sun has not yet pierced through the windows.

This darkness was intense and only briefly interrupted by a small bright light. In Heather's hand was a lighter. She flicked the fire on and off repeatedly, entranced by it. There was a certain beauty in the small flame. Beside her were pill bottles. Her medication. They were a godsend when her anxiety becomes overwhelming and when her anger is about to boil over to rage. They rested upon a folder, notes from her therapist. She picked them up and read through them. She already had done so before but there was on that irked her. One that angered her.

"_Participation in tankery may induce anger and/or rage in Heather. I see it as a risk that could undo years of work. Ultimately, the choice on whether or not your daughter continues her participation is up to you."_

Heather's therapist means well and she acknowledges that her being in therapy has improved her mental health somewhat. She recalls how worse things were before. But, this particular note was something that rubbed her the wrong way. A part of her interprets the note as a threat. She knows that is not how a normal person behaves but the feeling remains. It was entrenched.

"_What does he know? No one truly understands you…understands us!" _spoke a voice in her head.

Heather pouted. She took a deep breath

"I don't want to talk to you." she said aloud.

"_You know what you want to do with that note. Do what feels right. What feels good!"_

As if she was commanded, Heather grabbed the note with one hand and with another grabbed the lighter. She lit the note ablaze and watched as the fire consumed it. She let the fire reach her fingers which cinched her. What remained was ash on the granite-top.

"_Good."_

"Go away now."

"_I've always with you from the day you were born. Think of me as a sibling that no one else knows about. Not even your parents."_

"And no one will ever find out you exist. Only me and forever me. I taught myself how to hide you."

"_No matter what you do, you will always hear things no one else hears, smell things no one else smells, see things no one else sees, and hear things no one else hears. This is your life. Sooner or later, all your efforts to hide me will be in vain. One day, I won't be hidden anymore. You'll be seen as some freak. Your family will see you as some disgrace and your friends will abandon you. And you can't do a fucking thing about it."  
_

Heather stood up and paced around her home, nervously breathing

"Y-you…you don't control me." she said, voice strained.

"_You stupid bitch. I OWN you. I. Will. Hurt. You."_

"Nobody owns me! Especially not a voice in my head! You can _fuck_ right off and go straight to Hell!" she screamed.

Silence. The voice retreated but it will return. It always did. Heather felt her heartbeat at light speed and was sweating like crazy. She downed one of her pills. She took deep breaths and grabbed her keys. She's leaving early for school, hang out in the library while waiting for class to start. Her things gathered, Heather left quickly out of her apartment. So fast was her departure that she failed to notice Buchanan standing there in the hallway, with a stunned expression. The thin walls let her hear every word. She was motionless. Buchanan didn't know how to react. She considered talking to Heather but she was already out of view before she could make a decision. What she heard couldn't be ignored. Buchanan walked on as she had some errands to take care of but was deep in thought. The well being of the team, both physical and mental, was her top concern.

_Later_

During lunch, the library was a popular spot for those who want to spend the break in the cool indoors. Without food of course, the librarian enjoys a clean space. For Natalie, she was there to do some research on an essay she was assigned. She walked up and down the aisles ad scoured the shelves. She had a general idea of what she wanted to write about but couldn't find the right type of books she wanted. Her head moved so quickly that her long dark brown hair flew into her eyes, annoying her slightly. In another aisle, as she was browsing, her eyes glanced upon a familiar figure as they darted around. When she focused her vision, it revealed to be Ray, sitting alone at a table reading a book. Seeing Ray no longer elicited any negative emotions. Not like before. In fact, she was slightly pleased to see a familiar face. Seeing Ray prompted her to do something. Something that she had to do.

Apologize.

She walked over to him. Ray was so engrossed in his book that he didn't notice her mere inches away.

"Hey." Natalie said, waving her hand in front of him.

"Uh, hello." Ray responded, looking from his book.

"Alone huh? Where's the rest of the boys?"

"I don't share a lunch period with them. So I just come here and read."

"Uh-huh. Watcha reading?"

" The _War Of The Worlds _by H.G Wells. It's my favorite."

"Oh yeah? What's it about."

"Martians invade Earth for their resources, humanity tries to fight, fails, saved by bacteria in the end. I've read it…over a dozen times now. You ever read it before?"

"No. Science fiction isn't my genre."

"Oh. Okay."

Ray resumed reading. Natalie remained where she stood. She felt awkward.

"Um…I have something to say to you."

He looked back at her.

"I just want to say…I'm sorry for acting like an ass when the team got started. I yelled at you and your friends, thinking that you only joined to chase girls."

"Oh we did. We're just really bad at it." Ray said with a laugh.

The manner of his speaking let Natalie know that he was joking. And, since he was joking, meant that Ray harbored no ill will toward her.

"So, you don't hate me?" Natalie asked.

"No? I never hated you. I don't have the energy to hate people. Look, when you said those things back then, I was hurt. We all were. But we got over it soon enough. You're passionate about the sport, and now, you're channeling that energy into something more positive."

Natalie stifled a blush.

"Heh. Guess I did."

"So, what brings you to the library?"

"I gotta do an essay about an ancient historical figure of my choosing. Do you think you can lend a hand or something? You don't have to of course…but if you're willing…"

Ray set down his book and clasped his hands with a smile.

"I know a thing or two about ancient history. Are we talking about the age of antiquity?

"Yeah. Got any suggestions? I know nothing about people who are nothing more than dust now."

Ray grinned.

"Ah, perhaps you could write about Julius Caesar. The man who led Rome's legions to conquer Gaul, then turned around and marched on Rome herself! Actions that turned the Roman Republic into an empire. Or maybe, you could talk about Alexander the Great who destroyed the Persian Empire. When you talk about his military feats, it is impossible to not mention the Macedonian Phalanx or the legendary Companion Calvary! There is also Hannibal Barca! The Carthaginian general who did the insane and crossed the Alps with elephants to attack Rome where they least suspected it! Or—"

"Ah, Ah, Ray, I get it. I got some candidates to write about it. You know your stuff about the ancient past."

"It's my favorite thing to learn about. I'll help you look for the perfect books for your essay. When is it due?"

"March 15th. I want to get this done early."

"Ah yes. March 15th."

Ray stood up.

"Beware Natalie. The ides of March." Ray joked said as he gestured to follow.

"Don't be weird."

Ray was pleased with the joke and didn't care that Natalie wasn't enthusiastic about it. He was always happy to make a reference to undoubtedly the most famous assassination in all of world history. He led her to a section of the library that had the books that will certainly help her. For the month of March, there were no matches scheduled yet they anticipated that it'll be a busy one nonetheless. Practice would continue of course, with the addition of getting the Puma ready for the race in Houston. Then there was the SU-100 to get fixed up, with Valarie promising that it can be operational in just under a day. Time will tell if the team can really do such a thing. Those were the things that were expected to happen in the forthcoming month. Yet, with thirty-one whole days, anything could happen. If anyone on the team is superstitious in any sense of the word, perhaps they should beware the ides of March.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SU-100 from Oceanside arrives and the Mojave Rose tankery team sets out to get it operational. During their repairs, they make a discovery that startles Buchanan to her core.

_Saturday_

_March 2nd, 2013_

A new month and spring was fast approaching. A period of the year in the Mojave where it wasn't always insufferably hot but mostly delightfully warm. Mojave Rose High School was barren, save for a collection of students mingling around the garage. The school's tankery team had a fun day in store for them, even if it was dedicated to repairing a near totaled tank. The SU-100 had arrived late last night, it was placed on the dirt road. The team surrounded the vehicle, studying all the damage it has sustained.

"This is even worse than in the picture." Sage commented.

"Can we really fix it? Let alone in a day?"

Conversation increased as the team gave their opinions regarding the situation. Sensing an opportunity to boost morale, Valarie hopped right on top the SU-100 which grabbed everyone's attention.

"Damn, you're nimble!" exclaimed Jacqueline.

"Okay, everyone, listen closely. Each and every one of you know your machines by heart. Any problem that you find is fixed almost immediately and with ease. I don't want to hear a word that we can't do this. I know we can. We've all overcome so much to get this far into the tournament and I'll be _damned_ to let a repair job be what breaks us!"

With fervor, and a tinge of fear, the team in unison exclaimed their readiness for the task at hand. A few moments later, Buchanan arrived. Alone.

"No Mister Redwood?" Valarie inquired.

"Nope. He has meetings at the district office. How fun for him, huh?"

Buchanan approached the SU-100.

"Rough shape. Rough shape indeed."

She turned around.

"Let's perform a full inspection. Catalog each and every bit that needs attention. Valarie, you and your crew will handle that. Everyone else, will get all the tools out and get the spare parts out of their packaging."

The team mobilized the instant she stopped talking, Moist went within the garage to get any tool that might be useful in the repair. Spare parks were taken out of the boxes they arrived in and laid out on the garage floor, all neat and organized. Valarie and her crew were examining the SU-100. Emma and Ashley looked at the outside of the machine while Heather and Valarie checked the interior. The inside has seen better days. In the driver's position, Heather attempted to move the steering and gear levels but none budged. She pressed the ignition switch and the engine tried to start but was just repeating a harsh sputtering sound. Ten seconds of holding down the switch and she gave up. The gauges were misaligned with the speedometer outright missing its needle. The most glaring issue was in regards to the driver's hatch. The distinct lack of one, actually. Points where the hatch would have been mounted on showed signs of tear. In the fighting compartment, Valarie found her own fair share of issues. A peek at the gunsight told her that it would need to be recalibrated. The elevation and traverse controls were abnormally stiff. The cannon breech was opened and showed it to be absolutely covered with filth. It was normal stuff that can be expected but there was one issue that made Valarie gasp. It was the most dangerous damage a tank can sustain.

"Heather. Come crawl over here." Valarie called.

With some maneuvering, she made her way to her commander.

"Yeah?"

"Take a look at that." Valarie said, pointing to the inner wall.

Heather looked and saw what she saw. On the interior steel wall was a moderately-sized crack. It exposed something that was within the wall, black in appearance. It too was cracked and bits of it were flaking off.

"Christ, that's the protective carbon lining. The tumble down the hill must've been really bad for the steel to crack." Heather remarked.

Valarie reached out and grabbed a chunk of the carbon. It was extremely brittle and the slightest motions of her hand caused it to disintegrate.

"Geez. That's…not suppose to happen." Valarie said, looking at fragmented pieces of carbon.

Heather got a closer look at the lining and noticed something else.

"Hmm…a string of numbers? Ah…it's the serial number. That might be useful."

She took out her phone and took a photo of the number. Good timing as the piece of carbon that had the number etched on fell off and was destroyed as it hit the floor of the compartment. The two girls got out of the vehicle. Emma and Ashley finished their inspections and the entire crew went to Buchanan to report their findings.

"Alright ladies, what's the damage?"

Emma was the first to speak.

"The damage shown in the picture is basically what we found. When we checked the engine, that is when we found something new."

"Will it need to be replaced?" Buchanan asked.

"Not really replaced but more…reassembled." Ashley added.

"Okay. Heather. Valarie. What did you find?"

"Every piece of equipment for the driver to do their job will need attention." Heather said.

"Does that include the transmission?"

"No."

"How can you tell?"

"I can feel it."

"Alright, I'm trusting you on that. Valarie, what did you see?"

"All aspects of the gun with need to be tended to. But the main thing that grabbed me and Heather's attention was a crack in the inner wall."

"A crack? Well, that's rather serious."

"What's more serious is that the crack exposed the carbon lining. When I touched a piece of it, it fell apart in my hand."

"It…what?" Buchanan asked, now serious.

"The carbon disintegrated in my hand." Valarie repeated.

Buchanan's face was now of grave concern. She paced around the dirt for a few moments as she processed the information. Unpleasant memories made a resurgence. She shook her head.

"The protective lining must have deteriorated. Impossible to say for how long without a specialist taking a look. The same specialist would also be the one replacing the carbon."

She sighed.

"Guess we're paying a maintainer regardless."

"I took a picture of the serial number. It fell apart after I did." Heather informed.

"Send that photo to me. It'll be useful..somehow. Well, this was unexpected. Then again, I expected to find something unexpected. Does that make sense?

The four girls didn't know how to respond to her query.

"Ahh…anyway. Let's repair what we can for today."

The T-44 crew rejoined the team and assisted them in preparations, With a motion of Buchanan's hand, four team members were carrying hydraulic jacks. Each was placed underneath the vehicle at a corner. In tandem, they raised the machine just a few inches of the ground. That is all that they needed. The SU-100 had four drive sprockets and ten roadwheels in total. Each of them displayed damaged that made them inoperable. Each of these parts had a team member work on them, tools in hand, to carefully demount them from the tank. The sounds of bolts being twisted were something the team found satisfying. What was more satisfying was the parts coming off nice and easy. Free from the tank, they were placed in a corner of the garage.

Now it was time for a deep clean. A team of two, each equipped with power washers, blasted the vehicle with pressurized water. All the grime that had clung to the tank were eradicated. The graffiti, too, stood no chance. It's vulgar words deleted. In no time at all did the green paint job of Soviet tanks shine once again. It was approaching midday when the water stopped spraying. The SU-100 was beginning to look good. The replacement sprockets and roadwheels were installed and fastened tight. The jacks were disengaged and the tank was gingerly placed back onto the ground.

"Nicely done. The driver's position is what needs to be worked on next. Get to it."

The steering and shifting levers were replaced with ones made this century. The metal was polished and was pleasant to look at. The gauges were recalibrated and the speedometer once again had a needle. A new driver's hatch was installed, with the hinges that held it in place hammered back into shape.

"It's all coming together now." Valarie commented.

"Is the gear in neutral?" Buchanan asked.

"Yeah." answered one of the team.

"Good. Layout the new tracks in front of the tank. Align them as perfectly as possible as you can with the roadwheels."

Both sets of new tracks were dragged out of the garage by a small group of students as their weight was considerable. They were placed in front of the roadwheels, as perfect as they could manage.

"What now?" asked Robin.

"The easy part." Buchanan replied with a smile.

She pointed to the boys.

"You're definitely helping…along with everyone else."

Buchanan gestured the team to follow and situated themselves in front of the SU-100.

"Guys…just a question. You know those Pyramids in Egypt? How did they move those big stone blocks to make 'em?"

The team was perplexed over the seemingly random question. Ray took a stab at it.

"Um. I think a bunch of people just pulled them on ropes."

Buchanan grabbed and waved the steel tow cable in front of everyone. They all realized what their instructor wanted them to do.

"Oh." Ray uttered.

"_It's only thirty-five tons. Easy."_ he thought to himself.

Buchanan looked at Heather.

"Get in the drivers seat and get ready to break when I say."

"Got it."

Heather hopped in the vehicle and placed her foot just over the brake peddle, ready to slam it. Outside, the team split into two groups, each grabbing on to two steel cables. They hyped themselves up for what they were about to do.

"Do not push yourself too hard. This isn't a competition on who's the strongest. This sport is a team effort in all aspects. You're all far too young to have back pain."

"My six-foot ass must've not gotten that memo." Ray joked.

The team walked back a few steps which put tension on the cable.

"Pull!"

They pulled, grunting and straining underneath their breath. The steel cable was now perfectly straight as it was under great tension. The machine didn't move an inch at first but soon yielded to the combined strength of the team. Slowly and minutely, the roadwheels rotated. Inching toward the tracks. Buchanan watched intensely as the roadwheels came into contact with the tracks and slid into them. Only two minutes have gone by but for the people pulling, it felt like two centuries. Everyone's muscles were burning. Some had their arms shake as they were pulling with all their might. The tank continued to move slowly where then Buchanan yelled,

"Brake!"

The moment she heard her instructor's voice, Heather slammed on the brakes and the SU-100 halted. At the same instance, the team dropped the steel cable and look at their arms, which ached immensely. The 'easiest' part was done. They were all tired but the work on the tracks was not yet completed. A portion of the team, one each side of the tank, finally mounted the tracks onto the vehicle. As they were doing this, three students got permission to leave campus for a brief errand. A few minutes of work and the tracks were done. The team stood back and admired what they all accomplished. The outside of the SU-100 gave the impression that the machine was ready for a match. Yet, there was more to be done. For now, though, a break was in order.

"Time for a rest. As I recall, there is a potluck."

Suddenly forgetting their aches and sores, the team bolted back into the garage. Everyone brought something to contribute and it was what one would expect a bunch of teenagers to bring. Sodas of various flavors, though there was some fruit juices and water as well. Bags upon bags of potato chips, some of which were already torn into and being ravaged by the team. Cookies, both of the hard and soft variety, were abundant and placed in a tantalizing pile. For students who are more health-conscious, they brought fruit and vegetable trays. Others opted to make their own food tor bring. Chicken salad, nachos, muffins, fried chicken, and more. There was also, of course, enough paper and plastic plates, cups and cutlery to rival the great garbage patch in the Pacific. The three members who left earlier returned, each carrying boxes of pizza from a popular hot-and-ready chain. It was now the team could unwind and begin eating. Students filled their plates with food and ate with their crews at their tanks. As people were enjoying themselves, Buchanan walked around. There was a lot on her mind.

The exposed carbon lining was alarming. The fact that it was brittle was even more so. Buchanan could understand that a tumble down a hill could cause a crack in the inner walls. A bad one, but entirely possible. Yet it wouldn't make the carbon lining brittle. They were designed to withstand tank rounds of all calibers. It being brittle meant that it was deteriorated. For Buchanan's case, the carbon lining of her Sherman Easy Eight had a manufacturing defect which caused the material to decay far faster than it should have. Since 1990, the Association has worked much more closely with the protective carbon manufacture to not only erase the chances of a defect but to also improve the formula to make the material safer than ever.

At least, that is what the Association claims to have done.

Buchanan had only read their press release, one that she still has. When the specialist replaces the carbon, hopefully, they'll shed some light over all of this. Until then, she'll have a cookie or three. She walked as she ate, looking at all the crews in their own bubbles. It brought a smile to her face that only disappeared as fast as it came when she saw Heather. She was sitting quietly on top the T-44, listening intently to the conversation the rest of her crew was having. Her long black hair proved to be an excellent tool to hid most of her face. Whether this was just how her hair behaved or intentional, Buchanan didn't know for sure but was leaning toward the latter.

There was no doubt in her mind that Heather had some sort of mental issue. She was, however, puzzled on how to proceed. Sure, Buchanan wasn't the perfect example of a healthy mind, but, whatever Heather had was in another league entirely. Then an idea popped into her mind. She approached the T-44 crew.

"Hello ladies…Valarie, mind if we talk? One on one?"

"Uh, sure."

Buchanan led her to the garage office for privacy, with the door firmly closed. Buchanan sat where Redwood would've sat, with Valarie sitting just on the other side of the desk.

"It's about Heather. Tell me, Valarie. Has she ever acted…weird?"

"Heh…Heather is Heather. She has her odd quirks but that just what we love about her. Once you really get to know her, she's simply wonderful."

"No doubt about that. But, have you ever seen her showcase…troubling behavior?"

Valarie squirmed in her seat, slightly uncomfortable.

"Ahhh…well…there was this one time. With our first match with Bascom. She…lost her cool."

"Do share."

''It was their artillery. When they hit close to our tank, it rode her up the wall. The longer it happened, the angrier she became."

"Heather angry? That's quite the departure from her character."

"No kidding. Her rage reached its peak at the end of the match when, without orders, rammed the tank into Bascom's flag tank. That act got us the win. We never seen her very expressive, so when we saw her genuinely angry…it freaked us out a little."

Buchanan looked down at the desk briefly.

"Has she ever said anything about voices in her head?"

Valarie was taken aback over such a question. Her face one of confusion.

"Um? No? Never. Then again, I've only known her since the start of the semester."

"I see.."

Buchanan rose from the desk.

"Valarie, I'm going to ask a big favor from you. I want you to keep a close eye on her. Anything that she says or does that is concerning, you tell me. Okay?"

"I understand, Miss Buchanan."

"Thank you. Go back to your friends and eat up. We got more work to do with the SU and everyone needs their strength back up."

The team had fun with the little party they held. Soon, they returned to work on getting the machine fully operational. The engine demanded a lot of work to get that thing back in order. It wasn't destroyed but 'simply' necessitated reassembly. The engine hatches were open and some students peered in.

"Eeesh. Looks like a bomb went off in here." commented one.

"Oh, this'll be fun. No doubt." said another.

Parts that were freely laying around the engine compartment were taken out to be cleaned and inspected. What remained was the engine itself along with the bigger, vital components. With half a dozen hands working in the compartment, components were realigned and bolts refastened. Oil was replaced along with other fluids. The battery was checked with the reader reporting a satisfactory voltage. The engine itself was thoroughly cleaned and stains and gunk were taken care of. Outside, people were cleaning engine pars with steel brushes. Other than being filthy, they were in good shape. While all of this was occurring the fighting compartment was being refurbished. Most importantly was the gun. Every part that composed it needed attention.

A group tended to the cannon. The sight as cleaned and recalibrated. Elevation and traverse controls were greased and fine-tuned. The breech and striker were cleaned and tested. A click of the trigger produced a noise. A loud one. It startled some but signified that they were functioning properly. Then there was the barrel. One student outside shoved a cleaning down down it and pulled back and forth. A few quick motions and out came a cloud of vaporized powder, which blanketed the student with a black coat.

"This uniform was just washed only yesterday!" she complained.

Back at the engine, it was now being reassembled. Careful and tried hands hooked hoses, mounted bolts, installed fans, among other things. Once the last wrench was turned, everyone backed up. Eight hours ago, it looked like the SU-100 was destined to be sent to a scrapyard. Now, after their combined labor, it has been given new life.

"Heather, start the engine." Buchanan asked

At the press of the switch, the engine was resurrected. It roared as heather played with the throttle. It sounded so powerful, so healthy. Without being prompted, Heather turned the vehicle in place, with the team watching gleefully as the new tracks performed flawlessly. Buchanan rose her hand where then Heather stopped the engine.

"Just. Amazing. Though, before we call it a day, we need to do one more test."

She looked at the team and visualized what she wanted to happen.

"Alright. I want two people inside the tank. A gunner and a loader. Now, I am curious to see how many of you guys can ride on top of the tank. Figure it out for me, will ya? Do it safely!"

In a matter of moments, the top of the SU-100 was covered with most of the team. Much like how soldiers of the Red Army rode on top their tanks into battle. For those who couldn't find a safe space to ride, they would ride on top of the T-44.

"Valarie, with your crew, carry the rest of the team while you follow the SU."

"Okay, firstly, what are we doing?" Valarie questioned.

Buchanan walked over to a crate that Oceanside had sent along with the SU-100. From within, she pulled out a 100mm shell.

"I want to pop off a round."

She passed the shell into the tank.

"Secondly, who is driving?" Valarie continued.

"Me." Buchanan replied nonchalantly.

"Uh…uh…you..sure, Miss Buchanan?"

"I am. Get your tank ready."

Valarie went to her vehicle while Buchanan walked in front of the driver's hatch. After a brief hesitation and a huge breath, she climbed in and got herself settled. She felt that the air become stuffy. When she reached to the controls, it felt like she was moving through gelatin. When she finally grabbed on to them, she felt that her hands were becoming drenched with sweat. She moved her hand, resisted by some unseen force, to the ignition switch. She essentially punched ignition switch and the tank rumbled as the engine whined and roared. This jolt tensed her. Soon, she smelled the fumes of the exhaust as it reached her. All these sensations combined came extremely close to giving her a full-blown panic attack. She felt phantom pain of her body being burned. She was just a moment away from freaking out when she just closed her eyes and did some breathing. A few breathes later and her grip relaxed and her muscles were no longer tense.

Progress.

Honest to God progress.

She was one step to becoming the person she wanted to be. The emotion she felt was beyond liberating and empowering. More work was to be done but one hell of a hurdle was passed. Buchanan shifted gears and downed the SU-100 drove forward with the T-44 following right behind. The steel machines were driving to Crater Hill, the most ideal, and familiar, location to fire a large-caliber cannon. With the countless times the team has driven to his place, it was now a reflex at this point. They could drive there blindly. Upon their arrival, people who were riding on top of the tanks hopped off. Some were nauseous while most found the whole experience amusing. They all congregated off to the side. Buchanan got out of the SU, with a huge grin on her face.

"Hot damn, I still got it." she told herself, delighted.

"I thought you were a commander back in the day." Valarie asked.

"True. But when I first got into tankery I was a driver."

"For the Easy Eight?"

"Oh no, it was a different tank. Panzer IV with F2 specifications. Ahhh, she handled like a dream."

Heather nudged Ashley who was standing right beside her.

"See? Her tank was a girl too."

Ashley rubbed her face.

"Okay, Okay. You win. Gloat all you want. This isn't the bet, you know!"

Heather responded with a wink. Buchanan conversed with the two people within the SU-100.

"Load the shell and fire when I say."

She turned to the rest of the team.

"Get ready for the final test. Stand back a bit. Actually…stand back a lot."

The team gave the tank destroyer the space it demanded. Now, it was the moment of truth. Within the vehicle, the shell was slid into the breech.

"Ready!" yelled the gunner.

Buchanan simply let her arm fall to her side to signal. Then, an explosion of fire and vaporized powder came rushing out the barrel. The sound was incredibly satisfying to hear and feel, with the energy released giving everyone a tingling sensation. In less than a second, portions of the hill were ejected into the air as the projectile collided with the earth. This firing test told the team that their work was done. For Buchanan, there was still one more thing to do. The protective lining needed replacing. She would have to find a specialist to do the job as the team didn't have the means to do it themselves. They returned to the garage soon after and were dismissed. A good day for all involved.

_Sunday_

The SU-100 was gone. Taken. By specialists hired by Buchanan to replace the protective lining. It'll be a several hour job, they told her. She was at the garage office. All alone. She wouldn't be at the garage on Sunday, usually. Not since the team relaxed their schedule and only did practice on Saturdays. Feet up on the desk, she waited. Those specialists will call her when the job is completed and wanted to be here when the tank was returned. It was eerie to be in a place that you've known for so long to be a constant source of noise. Now it was dead silent. Perhaps she'll catch a glimpse at the alleged cryptid that is said to call this place its home. She chuckled softly. Who the hell believes that stuff? Heather? Huh. She would believe that sort of stuff. Buchanan regularly glanced at her phone, just sitting on the desk. That call will arrive any minute now. As time drew on, her vision grew weary as the intense boredom got to her. Then there was the sound of something vibrating.

It was them. The specialists.

"Hello?" Buchanan answered.

"Hi Miss Buchanan. We're all done here and the vehicle is en-route back to your garage."

"Cool. Cool. Just a question. How old was the lining?"

"Ah, thanks to the photo you have provided, we determined that the lining was manufactured in December 1985.

"1985? Before the new formula of the lining?"

"Sure does look like it. When we removed the lining, it was just in awful shape. Deterioration everywhere. It was so bad we just hosed out the carbon."

Her mouth was agape.

"Can you tell when this deterioration started?"

"Sure can. We examined a piece under a microscope and from the cracks that were analyzed, we can conclude with one hundred percent certainty that they have been forming for approximately two years.

They might as well told her the cracks formed yesterday. She kept her cool.

"When did the SU-100 get the old carbon lining?"

"We don't have that information."

"What? I thought all tank maintenance services shared service records for optimum efficiency?"

"If you're partners with the ATA, yes. Our business is not. There is this huge process that we just didn't want to deal with."

"Yeah, I can understand not wanting to deal with 'em. Anyway, thanks for your services."

"You're welcome. Miss Buchanan. At the risk of being unprofessional, but, the information you seek maybe with the previous owners of the SU-100."

Buchanan smiled.

"You've been a huge help. Your professionalism is second to none."

She hung up and set the phone down. Buchanan rested her head on the desk. There was this small yet slowly growing fear inside her. She hoped and prayed that it wasn't the case but the only way to be sure was to ask Oceanside about the SU's service record.

Thankfully, Valarie had a contact. One with considerable clout.

_Monday_

_March 4th_

The team was refining their skills with morse code. Save for one. Valarie, Buchanan, and Redwood were outside Room 34. They wanted some privacy.

"Is Oceanside's captain ready for the call?" Buchanan asked.

"Yes. We've been texting back and forth." Valarie answered.

"Go for it."

Valarie dialed. Redwood rested a hand on Buchanan's shoulder.

"Gabby, how serious is all this? I'm a bit out of the loop." he asked quietly.

"It's either very serious or not at all."

"Damn, it's one of those kinds of things."

"Ain't it always?"

Redwood nodded. Valarie then waved at both of them to grab their attention.

"Hello Sam…yeah nice to hear you too…Did you get the pictures of the repaired SU? Ha! Guess I am bragging. Anyway, Sam, you happen to have the service records of that thing? Cool. I can wait."

Valarie rested her phone against her neck.

"She's looking for them."

"Good. When she has them, ask when the SU-100 had its protecting lining checked."

"Got it."

A minute of being on hold and Sam returned to the phone.

"Hey, you got 'em? Great. Now, when was the last time the protective lining was checked?"

A brief silence.

"Oh. It wasn't checked? But replaced five years ago?"

Buchanan became pale as a ghost.

"Was the place that replaced the lining partnered with the ATA?"

Valarie conversed on the phone.

"Yes." she responded.

Buchanan felt her knees were weak, as if they were made of jelly. Just barely did she have the strength to remain standing.

"Valarie." she said, voice cracking.

"Give our thanks to Oceanside's captain. She's been a huge help."

Valarie bid thanks and farewell. She put away her phone.

"Now go back inside and resume your exercises."

Valarie entered Room 34. Buchanan walked around the dirt for a few moments before heading towards another building.

"Hey Martin. Anyone in this building?"

"Uh, no. No one should be."

Buchanan gave an exaggerated nod as she approached the wall of the structure. Redwood saw that her fists were clenched and figured what she was about to do. He made only one step toward her when Buchanan punched the wall out of anger, which made her wince in pain and knell.

"Gabby! What the hell are you doing?"

"Those lying motherfuckers." she muttered amid heavy breathing.

"Who? Oceanside? The specialists?"

"No…the association."

"Wha—? I don't follow."

Buchanan stood up and faced him.

"In 1991, the ATA mandated that all tanks who wish to remain compliant in matches have their carbon linings replaced with ones improved by the new formula. Yet, our SU-100, which had its lining replaced by a service partnered with the ATA, got the old lining _FIVE_ years ago! Why?!"

"It could've been a mistake made by the specialists. I imagine that the carbon protection made in the 80s and those made last week are indistinguishable in appearance."

"Well, that's one big fucking mistake to make!"

"You need to cool off, Gabby."

"Cool off? How can hell can I do that when there are potentially hundreds of tanks nationwide with defective linings?! There are people at risk and they don't even know it!

"Gabby, the last time the carbon protection failed was when it happened to you! What happened to us could have been just an isolated incident."

Buchanan breathed and took a look at her hand. She extended her fingers. No broken bones, thankfully. Still, the pain was pulsating.

"Martin, I get you're trying to help and I _pray_ that you're right but…you don't know the association as I do. You don't know just how shitty the inner workings of that organization is."

Redwood got close and held her injured hand and caressed it gently. She winced slightly in pain but didn't stop him.

"You're right. I don't know the association as much as you do. But, don't you think after twenty years that things didn't change?"

"If what I fear is right, then they haven't changed a bit."

Redwood gave her a kiss on her forehead.

"We'll get to the bottom of this."

They shared a hug.

"Now, let's get some ice on that hand."


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the tankery convention approaches, all sorts of people prepare in their own different ways. All the while, the T-44 crew learns more about Heather, about her passion.

_March 4th, 2013_

"What are you looking for?" Valarie questioned

"I saw something in your hair…something that wasn't there before." Emma explained

Her hands were exploring Valarie's head, scrutinizing each strand of hard. The sensation of her fingers rummaging through her hair was something Valarie liked. Loved, actually.

"Found it."

Valarie then felt a pain as something was plucked right from her head.

"Ow! You got my hair by accident!"

"Oh no. I got exactly what I was looking for."

In Emma's hand was a long strand of her hair.

"Look closely."

Emma brought the strand up close to Valarie's eye which she examined. She was stunned to see that the piece of hair Emma had plucked was a ghostly gray.

"Wha-! What?! Gray hair! Why God!?" Valarie exclaimed

"There is only one possible explanation for your hair to gray way before they normally do. Stress." Emma said.

"Stress…" Valarie echoed.

"And it's not the regular stresses of school of you being the captain of the team. It must be from when you were homeless."

Valarie looked down to the floor and sighed, her hair drooping down and covering her face.

"I should've known they'd be some kind of long-term effects." she muttered.

"Valarie, I cannot even begin to imagine the emotions you felt when you were homeless. Me just remembering that time makes my throat tighten. But, through your strength, you've overcome."

"I think I had some great friends lend a hand."

Emma blushed.

"Yeah…anyway I wouldn't be too upset over gray hair. It looks good on you…I like it."

"Oh, why am I not surprised that you, Emma Gray, likes gray hair."

Her blush became a deeper shade of red.

"Ah, well, it's just a good look…you know..aesthetics and all."

Emma's blushing made Valarie blush as well. Soon, lunch was over. They gave each other quick hugs and went to their respective classes.

_Elsewhere_

_Los Angeles, California_

_American Tankery Association Headquarters_

Among all the high-rise buildings and smog was a multistory structure that served as the Association's seat to conduct any and all business related to the sport of tankery in the United States. As the national tournament was in full swing, to say that they were busy would be an understatement. Employees walked briskly all around the building to take care of the multitude of tasks to ensure that the competition runs as smoothly as possible. Late last year, they made the controversial decision to start the tournament months earlier than it was originally planned. They didn't want the tournament to overlap with the international competition. The Association wanted a gap between the two major events so that the winner of the nationals would have the time they'd need to properly prepare themselves to represent the United States on the world stage. Previously, it was essentially a free-for-all for any American school that wanted to represent their country. Now, using the national tournament, the process was much more streamlined and less chaotic. One such employee, a young woman who was only hired just a few months ago, was at her cubicle. Paying full attention to the computer before her. She was reading and cataloging a sea of information. As she worked, one piece of data caught her eye. She raised her hand to wave down her supervisor, who arrived promptly.

"What do you have, Erin?" asked the supervisor.

"Westfield High School informs us that their tankery records have been accessed."

"Why requested it and why?"

"Ah, it was the vice-principal of Mojave Rose. For a demographics survey."

"Mojave Rose? Oh, that reminds me. I need to double-check that they are coming to the convention in Houston. Would hate for some mismanaged paperwork ruin their time."

The supervisor left for her office and turned on her computer. There, she accessed Mojave Rose's records on the database.

"MmmHmm. Indeed they are. Good, they're all set then."

She was just about to log off when she happened to glance at the name of their instructor. She did a double-take but it was what she thought it was.

"You've_ got_ to be kidding me." she said, annoyed.

The supervisor printed out the info and returned to Erin.

"Hey, what do you know about this?" she asked, pointed to the name.

"Oh, that's their instructor." Erin responded.

"For how long?"

"Since October I think. She's been with them since the team got formed."

The supervisor scratched her chin.

"Okay. Thanks."

She left with the paper in hand. Back in her office, she picked up the phone and made a call.

"Martha. Get all the veteran supervisors to the conference room for an emergency meeting. Thanks"

The phone was set down and went straight to the room. When she got there, the rest were already waiting.

"This can't be good, Joanna." Martha said.

"No. It isn't. We may have a problem. One that could grow in a huge one." Joanna said.

Joanna presented the paper to all in the room.

"Gabrielle Buchanan has returned to the sport by being the instructor of Mojave Rose High School, out in Barstow."

A nervous murmur erupted in the room.

"Why? I thought she made a promise to never participate in tankery again so that her settlement checks kept coming?" asked on in the room.

"First off, Beth, that isn't part of the contract so we can't use that angle. Second, when you asked to make that promise she was in the hospital _HIGH _on _MORPHINE_. Did you forget that part?"

Beth looked away ashamed.

"Verbal promises aren't legally binding. Especially one made by someone doped on painkillers. We need to recognize the fact that we can no longer rely on the trauma she endured on that day on keeping her away from tankery."

"So what do we do? Everyone here knows that she tried to investigate why the protective carbon failed. Now that she is an instructor, she has the means to finish it!" one supervisor said, voice filled with anxiety.

"Is there anything we can do to remove her from being an instructor?" asked another.

"No. Per the rule book, it is up to a school's discretion on who to choose to instruct their tankery team." Beth explained.

Conversation erupted over what to do. Joanna then raised her hand to seize control of the room.

"As schools with tankery teams have to comply with ATA rules and regulations to participate in our matches, the answer is to simply update the rules."

"The schools won't like if their ability to choose is taken away from them." Beth said.

"No not removed. Just…restricted." Joanna responded.

They were confused. Joanna cleared her throat.

"In the interest of providing tankery teams with only quality and experienced instructors, all instructors will need to have been an active participant in tankery within the last three years. Eh, a bit rough but that'll take care of Buchanan."

"We'll refine it and present it to the rules committee when they convene at the convention in Houston."

Whenever the ATA wishes to change, add, or remove a rule, it first must go before the rules committee for consideration where they either approve or reject whatever was proposed. It is composed of nine former tankery athletes who have made great contributions to the sport. Captains of tankery teams also have a voice in the process. They have to be physically present when the committee meets. They don't get a vote. The only role they have is to provide feedback on whatever is being proposed. The committee almost always meets at the tankery conventions to encourage high attendance.

"Can we expect any backlash from his?" asked a supervisor.

"No doubt Mojave Rose will object, but if we sell this rule change right that it is in everyone's best interest, they'll be the lone voice." Joanna explained confidently.

The emergency meeting concluded and the veteran supervisors returned to their regular duties. The situation that popped up was unexpected and unwelcome. It alarmed all the veteran supervisors but they all believed they had it under control and that when April comes and goes, it'll be handled. None of them will ever expect the absolute hell that was coming their way.

_Barstow_

MacKenzie Conner was a name Redwood found to be more common than he thought. Inputting the name in the search engine yielded hundreds of results, with as numerous social media profile accounts all sharing that name. Women living all over the country. It was overwhelming. There was one from Michigan, one from Florida, and another residing in Ohio. A thought entered her mind that made him internally groan. Mackenzie, in the intervening years, may have gotten married. That would mean she was longer 'Conner' but rather taken the surname of her spouse. If true, Redwood's search would be exponentially harder. He let out a sigh. His work may be near impossible, but we remained determined. He clicked on a social media profile at random and read through the details.

_MacKenzie Hayes_

_From Ridgecrest, California._

_Living in Colorado Springs, Colorado. _

He raised an eyebrow. This person lived the closest to the Mojave out of all the MacKenzies Redwood has looked through. And Westfield High School was out in Ridgecrest. But it could all be coincidental. He read on and learned more about this person. Hayes was forty-three years old. Her age lined up. Interesting. It was also found out that Hayes had made countless social media posts on her profile spanning back years. A virtual diary. It revealed that she was indeed married and had a daughter. One of these posts intrigued him.

"_My daughter has recently told me she was thinking of joining her school's tankery team. She said she wants to 'follow my footsteps.' A part of me is proud but another remembers how my time with the sport came to an unpleasant end. Mixed emotions."_

Redwood was leaning toward the idea that she had the right person but he wanted unquestionable proof. More posts were sifted through. He then found a comment on an internet article that talked about German tank destroyers.

"_No, the Jagdpanther never had the 105mm gun. This game you play is obviously not historical. The tank destroyer only ever had the 88mm. I would know, I shot that gun more times than I can count." _

Redwood has his proof. It was her. Unquestionably. Now the next step would be to orchestrate a meeting between her and Buchanan. He shuddered. How the hell do you go about doing that?

"Hey Gabby, I found the person who nearly killed you in 1990. Wanna meet her for lunch?" Redwood imagined in his mind.

If Buchanan broke up with him, right after punching him right in the face, Redwood wouldn't blame her. He needed to do this with great grace and tact. His best bet would be to have the women meet at a commonplace, without knowing that the other was going to be there. The tankery convention immediately came to mind. Buchanan was going, obviously. The same couldn't be said for Hayes. Redwood was certain that she had, along with Buchanan, some sort of trauma from that day in 1990. Bearing the knowledge that you nearly killed someone messes with the mind. Getting her to go the convention will be a challenge.

Her daughter has expressed interest in tankery. He wondered if that could be a factor. He was mulling his options when there was a ding from his computer. A new email. The subject line read,

_Convention Contest Reminder_

It was from the Association. Redwood read the contents.

_Hello tankers!_

_This email serves as a reminder that your school will be taking part in the race, sponsored by Patton Heavy Duty Engineering, in Houston, Texas. While already mentioned in previous emails, it is always good to remind you that being race contestants entitles you to certain benefits. Your admission tickets are discounted. Members of your tankery team can watch the race free of charge. Managers of teams may bring a guest, whose expenses will be covered by the Association. Lastly, attached to this email are the rules for the race. Please read and here to them._

_See you all April 8th!_

A guest? That raises the probability of success considerably. A free trip to the tankery convention could be just what Redwood needs to convince Hayes to head. There were still some aspects that were iffy, however. Hayes would understandably be wary if Redwood, to her a total stranger, invited her to be his guest. To get her to come would require deception, deviant behavior that wasn't part of his character. He let out a sigh. It'll have to be done. He printed out the rules for the race and left his office.

_Later_

The team was in the garage for today's meeting. Buchanan was conversing with them. Everyone was in front of the Puma.

"Okay! I got the rules for the race right here!" Buchanan said, waving the paper in her hand."

The team became excited.

"First, let's familiarize ourselves with what we can't do. One, no modifications shall be made to any components of the engine. Two, racers shall not fire upon their competitors. Three, tires and tracks are to remain standard. No equipment specially made for racing. Hmm. That's it. Other than that, we're free to do what we want."

Buchanan looked at the Puma for a moment.

"How much does this thing weight fully loaded?"

"Eleven and a half tons." Aurora answered.

"Let's see how much weight we can shed."

The Puma crew hopped in their vehicle and hauled out all the 50mm rounds.

"Getting the obvious out of here. What else?" Aurora said.

She tapped her fingers against her cheek.

"We can also remove the coaxial machine gun and accompanying ammo belts. The radio too can get outta here."

By the end of the hour, the Puma had nearly all of its internal equipment demounted. Same for the outside which included its headlights and smoke grenade launchers. What remained was the bare essentials.

"Is there anything else that we can do to lose those pounds?" Buchanan questioned

"Yes there is, Miss Buchanan." answered Avery, the Puma's gunner and loader.

"Me."

"Ah…you?" Buchanan asked, puzzled.

"Rules said we can't shoot at the other racers. No point in me being in the Puma."

"Good…good point."

Buchanan took another glance at the rules. Something she read made her smile.

"Says here we can have a pit crew. That's…awesome."

"What would they do?" Aurora asked.

"Oh, the same things a pit crew would do in NASCAR. You know, replacing tires and refueling."

Buchanan knelt down by one of the tires.

"How fast can you girls pop out these tires?"

With confident smiles, the Puma crew sprinted toward the nearest toolbox and each got out impact wrenches. They propped up the Puma with hydraulic jacks and with absolute glee, slammed their wrenches onto the lug nuts of the tires. Each of the three girls was at a wheel. The whir of the impact wrenches filled the garage. Within ten seconds, three tires of the Puma were on the ground.

"About that fast." Aurora reported.

"Hmm. If we get one person on each of the eight tires, with enough practice, all of those tires can get replaced in a matter of seconds." Buchanan said.

"Eight people to take off the tires, as many people to roll them in so the people with the wrenches can focus on their job. That's eighteen people on tire duty." Aurora explained.

"We'd also need two people to jack up the Puma to get the wheels off the ground. One at each end. Then, one more person to do the refueling." Avery added.

"That's twenty-one people for the pit crew. About half the team." Riley said, the Puma's driver.

"It is what it is." Buchanan remarked.

She then pointed to the tires.

"Get them back on. We'll focus more on race preparation this Saturday. Now, let's go back to Room 34. We got more morse code exercises to do."

"OhMyGod! More?!" whined Ashley.

The tires were remounted and the team was led back to the room to continue their training. At some point, they'd had to stop, Ashley hoped. She couldn't bear the dits and dashes for much longer.

_That Night_

Valarie's playbook has grown to a healthy size. By now, all of the team's commanders have made their contributions as a result of their experiences. With the abundance of information in the binder, Valarie had written up a table of contents for better organization. She flipped through the pages, satisfied. The playbook was set aside. Though it wasn't spring quite yet, a warm breeze graced her as it blew through her open window. Sweet and gentle. Laying in her bed, she was doing a whole lot of thinking. There was a lot of her mind. The SU-100 needs which Redwood said he will take care of. Then there was the race at the convection all the preparation it entails. Then there was the approaching Montana match, though it was more of the distance than the match itself that concerned her. She has never traveled so far nor has she ever been on an airplane. Valarie didn't know how she'd react to air travel. Yet there was something she was thinking the most about.

Next week, on the 13th, was Emma's birthday.

She'll be turning sixteen, same age as her. At least for a few weeks before Valarie's own birthday where she'll once again be older. Her mind was buzzing over what to get her. She was keenly aware of Emma's love of retro games and that she maintained a small but neat collection of NES cartridges. Then it hit her. She knew what to get her now. Valarie would get a game that would make a fine addition to her collection. Pleased, she turned off the lights and called it a night.

_March 5th_

_Boston_

"The tankery convention is upcoming, and as always, Molly Pitcher will be present." Penelope announced to all of the teams' commanders.

"Though we won't be attending any of the special events, including the race."

There were looks of disappointment in all of the commanders.

"Now, now. Wipe those upset faces away. We still have something important to do when we're over there. Caroline will explain."

Penelope sat down as Caroline stood.

"We can confirm that all the schools still competing in the tournament will be at the convention. It'll be the perfect opportunity for us to get to know them and understand them. We will face one of them in our next match. But, more importantly, one of these schools will go against us in the national finals."

Caroline's high confidence that Molly Pitcher will reach the finals was a sentiment shared among the entire team. Molly Pitcher was not only one of the richest schools in the commonwealth, but also in the entire nation. Such cash gets them quality tanks and the means to ensure that the people who operate them are superbly trained.

"Then there is the rules committee. They'll be meeting at the convention." Penelope said.

"Oh yes…that." Caroline reacted.

"The ATA has informed all schools that there is a proposed rule change. What it is they haven't specified. It could be something major but if previous meetings of the committee can serve as a precedent, I bet it'll be something rather mundane. Regardless, as captain of Molly Pitcher's tankery team, I intend on participating in the process. Hopefully, attendance is good…last time was a bit of a ghost town."

Penelope picked up her bag and strapped it around her back.

"That'll be all. Dismissed."

The room cleared out except for Caroline, who Penelope mentioned to stay.

"There is an important package coming in from the mail. It is related to our special project."

Caroline smirked.

"Unless Patton Engineering has somehow miniaturized that monster, I have no idea what they are sending us." she joked.

"The manuals." Penelope simply said.

Caroline inhaled sharply.

"They're sending them already? That means the tank is almost finished, right?"

"Right you are. You have the perfect crew in mind?"

"Yes ma'am. The best of the best."

"Good. When the manuals arrive, assemble them. I want them to study it the moment it gets into their hands."

Caroline nodded as she walked toward one of the windows, gazing to all courtyard below, trees playing in the wind.

"Penelope. Do you know what I call the people who'll face us when we get our tank?"

"What do you call them?"

"Poor bastards."

_Virginia_

"They'll be at the convention." said a girl.

She was speaking to a group of girls in a spare room of their school.

"What's the plan?" asked another.

The girl in the front of the room pasted pictures of four boys on the whiteboard, taken from the internet.

'These are the men who are ruining tankery. They are the IS-3 crew for Mojave Rose, that stupid desert school way out in California. The goal is to get them to quit tankery. How? Covert harassment."

"Men are stubborn. What if harassment doesn't work?" asked on in the room.

"Escalation." replied the girl in the front, her voice devious.

She then pointed to a picture of Ray.

"He is the commander of the IS-3. He will get the worst of it. I believe that if we can get him to quit, the rest of his crew will follow."

All around the room were malicious smiles. Save for one.

"Ladies, I don't want this guy to have a moment of fun or peace at the convention. I want to make the son of bitch cry."

A hand raised.

"You said something about escalation. What do you mean by that exactly?" she asked.

"To protect the sanctity of this sport, _everyone _in this room must be prepared to do whatever is necessary. Do you all hear me? Whatever. It. Takes."

The people in the room were prepared and ready to do what they thought was the same thing, sporting the same smiles from earlier. Save for one, the same person from before. As the group left the room, she approached the speaker.

"Cassandra…if the captain ever found out what we are doing—"

"She won't." Cassandra interrupted.

"Okay, whatever you say. But this talk of escalation makes me feel weird. As your friend—"

"I'm not friends with cowards. You aren't a coward, are you Ellie?" Cassandra questioned, looking directly in her pupils.

"N-no. I'm not." Ellie replied with a shaky voice.

"Good. Then you'll help us. Because we're friends."

The pair left the room. One on the warpath, the other intensely anxious. Ellie was terrified about what the future holds.

_Barstow_

Another meeting. The team gathered in Room 34 as usual. Though today was important. For today the team would complete their morse code taking a certification test. They had a few minutes before the meeting would formally start, so they all chatted among themselves. The T-44 crew was noticeably short a member.

"Where's Ashley?" Emma asked.

"I don't know. I haven't seen her in chemistry." Valarie replied.

"Miss Buchanan won't appreciate her missing the test." Heather added.

As if on cue, Ashley made her late arrival. She was out of breath as she had ran across campus to make it to the meeting on time.

"Where were you?" Valarie questioned

"Some…important business to handle." Ashley answered.

There was something on her face, specifically her nose. It was a small silver object.

"Is that…a nose ring?" asked Emma.

"What? This little ol'thing? Aha…yes."

"I thought you had to be eighteen to do something like that?" Valarie said

"Not if you have your parent's permission…which I got."

"It suits you. It suits you wonderfully." Heather complimented.

The rest of the crew concurred.

"Thank you, thank you. So, what about you guys? Ever think of getting a piercing? Or maybe even a tattoo?"

They all shook their heads.

"Really? Not one of you wants to decorate your bodes?" Ashley questioned, partly amazed.

"I…dyed my hair once." Heather said softly.

They all looked at her.

"You? Heather? Dyed your hair?" Ashley inquired

"Yes. A blonde color. It was for a cosplay."

"A cosplay?" they all said in near unison.

"What was it?" Valarie urged

Heather placed her hands behind her back and rocked in place, her cheeks red. She was becoming embarrassed.

"I was…Sarah Connor. You know…from the Terminator movies.

"Heather, God help you if you don't have pictures." Ashley remarked.

Heather, with brief hesitation, got out her phone. She browsed through her photos then presented the one her friends desired. It showed her indeed in blonde hair, with a black tank top, tactical pants, and boots. Around her waist was a utility belt with empty gun holsters. In her arm was a prop automatic shotgun, of the exact type as shown in the latter part of the film. But it wasn't just the costume. There was make-up as well. On her body was mock injuries as if she just fended off some metal menace.

"Just…amazing." Ashley commented

"You went all out on that. Wow." Valarie reacted.

"You look like you just stepped right out of the movie." Emma said.

Heather smiled, the biggest smile any of them had seen.

"You…you all really mean that?"

"Of course. It's badass." Ashley assured.

An idea popped in her mind.

"If you guys want…you can come over to my apartment to see the latest cosplay I'm working on. I'll drive you all." Heather suggested.

They all enthusiastically agreed. It was then that Buchanan and Redwood arrived and started the meeting.

"Everyone ready for the test?" Buchanan said

Ashley froze.

"What damn test!?"

"The morse code certification test, obviously."

"Oooh…yeaaah."

The team got to their seats, pencils at the ready. Once the tests were passed around, it began. Silently, the team worked. Ashley's pencil trembled as she anxiously went through the test, question after question. Before long, they were all done. Redwood and Buchanan diligently went through and graded them. Everyone anxiously awaited the results.

"Alright…" Buchanan said as she set down her pen.

"Every single one of you passed! You are all certified in morse code transmission."

Ashley reclined in her seat and let out the biggest sigh of relief.

"Ah…thank God."

"And a special congratulations to Ashley. She is the only one to get a perfect score."

Her eyes lit up.

"Me? Ah..uh…yeah. I have a passion for morse code…as you can see."

Valarie shot her a glare.

"Hey…this is legit. But I'll admit that I'm surprised over this. Honest."

"Whatever you say."

Buchanan put away all the tests.

"Today's a short day so you're all dismissed. See you tomorrow."

The team made their leave. The T-44 crew together went to Heather's car. They piled in and she drove them to her home at the apartment complex. Once there, she led them to her unit.

"So this is where you live, huh? It's so clean." Ashley remarked

"Management is obsessed with that. To an annoying degree." Heather said.

They entered an elevator and stopped at the third floor. As they walked, Heather pointed to one of the doors.

"That's where Miss Buchanan lives."

"She lives here? Making you her neighbor?" Ashley asked

"Yeah. Have been since I was born."

"Your family always lived in an apartment?" Valarie inquired.

"Yes. My mom is a surgeon and my dad is a general doctor. They met in medical school, it was love at first touch."

"Uh, don't you mean first sight?" Emma said

"No, I meant touch. They met while they were both working on a cadaver. When their hands touched while slicing through some guy's guts, they knew it was meant to be."

"That…makes sense. Oddly." Valarie remarked.

"Both your parents are doctors but you all still live in an apartment?" Ashley continued asking

"We're less than two minutes away from the hospital. Plus, renting is cheap."

"No shit it's cheap, its Barstow, not San Francisco."

They continued walking when Heather then stopped at a door.

"Here we are." Heather said.

She unlocked the door and they all walked in her cool-temperature room. It was impeccably clean.

"Take a seat on that couch. I'll go fetch my cosplay. It'll take a few minutes."

She went to her room while the rest sat and waited with eager anticipation.

"So, what do you guys think its gonna be?" Valarie wondered.

"It could be anything. Movies…TV…comics…books." Emma mused.

"Whatever it is, it's gonna be so cool." Ashley said.

There was then the sound of a door opening along with the heavy impact of boots on the floor. All there eyes were fixated on the corner when Heather made her entrance.

"Hot. Damn." Ashley uttered.

Her cosplay composed of a robe that completely covered her from the neck down. On her shoulder was a mantle, a shoulder cape, made of genuine leather. Around her hands were thick gloves and around her waist was a pouch filled with herbs and other plants. On her head was a wide-brimmed hat, which topped the balaclava, covering all the skin on her head. Each article of clothing was a deep shade of black. Except one. The mask she wore was a brilliant white that made for a stark contrast. This mask had a long beak. They all knew what she was. The fighter of pestilence of an age long gone. A plague doctor. The three girls on the couch stood up to admire her cosplay from all angels.

"Unbelievable! It looks so real!" Valarie exclaimed.

"Heather, you have talent! I mean _talent_. Though, if I remember this book I read, didn't plague doctors spread the disease more than they cured it? Then it went away by itself…I think"

Heather intimidatingly approached Emma.

"Oh, good doctor, I can assure you, the pestilence is here, and I can sense it. It is my duty in life to rid the world of it. My cure is most effective." Heather said, her voice as serious as she can manage.

There was then a laugh behind the mask, which encouraged everyone else to laugh as well.

"Geez Heather, where did that come from?" Emma asked.

Heather removed her mask and balaclava to speak more clearly.

"From some website…filled with interesting stories. Very interesting stories"

"How long did it take you to make it?" Ashley asked.

"Months. Mostly it was me going through swap meets and thrift stores to gather all the pieces of the outfit. But this mask? I made it myself."

"How did this all start?" Valarie said, curious.

"A couple of years ago, I accidentally tore one of my dresses. It was a nice dress and expensive too. So…I fired up my mom's sewing machine and got to work fixing it all by myself. When I was fixing it…I never felt more at peace…so relaxed. It's odd, I know, but the whole process is so soothing for me. After that, I fixed my clothes when they got damaged and when my parents found out they got me my own sewing machine and other stuff like thread and needles. When Halloween came around, instead of buying a costume, I made one myself. Now, here we are."

"They like your costume making, huh?" Emma asked.

"They love it actually. They are super supportive."

As Heather finished speaking, she stood up and paced around the room. She decided to do something that all her life she fiercely fought to not let anyone outside her family know. But, she was among friends and felt safe.

"I got something to admit to you all. I have anger and anxiety problems. I got it real bad that I go to therapy for it."

"Wow…Heather." Emma remarked.

Valarie and Ashley looked at each other nervously.

"In our first match way back in November, you all saw my fly into a rage. I'm sorry. I should've said sorry ages ago. It was a reckless decision and could've backfired hard."

"Ah, Heather, it's all good between us. And hey, since it's been months since your last outburst, that means therapy is doing great, huh?" Ashley said.

Heather merely nodded.

"Hmm. I'm betting the reason your parents are so supportive is that your costume making, along with therapy, helps you immensely." Valarie realized.

Heather looked at her mask while caressing it.

"It calms me down better than my medication. And it helps keep me sane." Heather said with a chuckle.

Heather than looked back at them.

"You guys accept me for who I am. With all my problems, quirks, and peculiar interests. Throughout my life, I've been shunned by groups of people I wanted to befriend. I've been teased mercilessly by people when they find out the things I like. I always thought I'd be an outcast, with only my parents giving me the emotional connection I wanted from others. Valarie. Emma. Ashley. You are all my friends. I…love you all." Heather said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Her friends walked up to her and all wrapped Heather in a warm embrace. Heather wasn't the only one crying as her words let out the waterworks in them all. Though they all thought it before, from that moment onward, they were convinced that their friendship would last a lifetime. No matter what they endure together, this bond shall never be broken. They were all strong and supported each other one hundred percent. They all knew who to thank for bringing them together. The mechanized martial art of tankery.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashley gets asked to do something...deceptive. Something right up her alley. The Puma tears up the desert in preparation for the race. With over a month until the Tankery convention, activity among all people is rife.

_Monday, March 6th, 2013_

Mojave Rose High School wasn't the wealthiest school around, but they had it in their budget to have a computer class to teach students the various skills desired in a modern society that is only getting more technological. This was Ashley's favorite class as it was a fantastic departure from the more traditional classroom. It was here that Ashley did not have to employ her more unconventional tactics of passing classes as she truly enjoyed it. Also, the material being taught wasn't hard, she had a knack for it, regularly being the first person to finish their assignments. Today was another day like that. Finished with her work, Ashley was just browsing the internet, the internet the school allows students to browse, where then the voice of the computer teacher interrupted the calm ambiance of the room.

"Ashley. Mister Redwood wants to see you in his office."

"Why?"

"Didn't say."

Ashley gathered her things and walked out of the computer lab. At this time of the day, the hallways were vacant, only populated by her. Leaving the building, the outside was similarly devoid of people. None of this assuaged Ashley's nervousness. Her mind raced to figure out why Redwood wanted to see her. Was it now, after all these years, would her academic dishonesty finally catch up to her? She couldn't conceive of another reason nor could she come up with some excuse. If what she feared was true, there wasn't an excuse in the world that could save her. Ashley felt ill and her nerves wrecked. It was time the face the music, whatever it was. The music, as it turns out, was something that she would have never guess as her emotions took a one-eighty the moment she entered his office.

"You're not in trouble." Redwood assured.

"But please. Lock the door."

Ashley did so and took her seat. Redwood then turned on a fan in the room.

"Oh, I'm good. It's not hot in here." Ashley said.

"It's not for temperature. It's so that no one outside this office can hear."

"What is this all about?" Ashley asked, totally confused.

Redwood typed on his computer and swung his monitor around so that she could see.

"In your computer class, you have the highest grade. In all the assignments you've turned in, they have perfect marks. Especially assignments that involve Photoshop."

"Oh yeah, those assignments are my favorite. If you know what you're doing, Photoshop is stupid fun."

"So, you would say you're skilled with the program?"

"Better than anyone in this school, no doubt." she boasted.

Redwood tapped his fingers together.

"Ashley. I'm going to ask a huge favor from you. A favor that I would really prefer if we keep low key."

"Ohh, Mister Redwood, are we doing something…illegal?"

"No. But it'll be easier if we just keep it between us."

Ashley reclined thoughtfully in her seat.

"Okay. What's up?"

Redwood, again, typed on his computer and the screen changed.

"What you are seeing is an invitation to the convention. The ATA likes to give them away at random to former tankers to encourage them to have some sort of role in the sport again. I want you to recreate it as authentically as you can but the name needs to be 'Mackenzie Hayes'."

Ashley cracked her fingers, thinking. Then smiled.

"I thought Miss Buchanan was your girlfriend. Did you two already break up already? How sad."

"No? We're still toget—wait, I mean…we're not dating at all." Redwood stammered out.

Ashley maintained a sly smile, which indicated to Redwood that she wasn't convinced.

"…alright we're dating. How'd you figure that out?"

"I noticed all the little subtleties between you two. It was either you two are _very_ friendly toward each other or you're a couple. Looks like I guessed right."

Redwood's embarrassment faded away, it was him that smiled now.

"You're perceptive. You got a real eye for detail. You'd be perfect for the favor I'm asking from you."

Ashley tapped her fingers against the desk for a few moments.

"I'll do it. What do I get out of this, though?"

Expecting this, Redwood opened a drawer of the desk and got out a stack of little slips of papers, all held by a paper clip.

"Free lunch vouchers. Enough to last you until graduation. You're a sophomore so you still got two more years at this school. Imagine all the money you'd save not having to buy lunch…and save for your parents as well."

Eyes wide, Ashley looked at the lunch vouchers as if they were bars of gold. Redwood didn't stop her as her hands grabbed them to look at them closely.

"Damn…how soon do you want it?"

"As soon as you can. Take those vouchers. View it as a first installment. You'd be doing me a huge solid, Ashley. And for Miss Buchanan too."

Ashley stored securely the vouchers securely in her backpack.

"Always happy to help the school, Mister Redwood." she remarked sarcastically

She left the office with a pep in her step. Redwood was pleased with himself with the plan he had created. He would declare to the ATA that Hayes was his guest. The fake invitation Ashley will make will act as a lure, a cover, to best convince her to attend the convention. Hayes would believe the ATA themselves invited her, not some stranger. The ATA would believe that Hayes was just Redwood's guest and think nothing more of it. It was deceptive, sure, but not a malicious one. The question now if all this work will be worth it. That'll be known when April arrives.

_Saturday_

There was something out in the Mojave, kicking up a cloud of dust. On dirt roads did this thing travel, at the blistering speeds of sixty miles per hour. Its eight wheels tore into the ground. Engine hot and roaring. At a corner, it went into a drift and nearly toppled over, just barely recovering. It drove on to a small group of people, thoroughly entertained over what they have seen. The Sdf. 234/2 Puma came to a half just beside them.

"Time?" Aurora asked, popping out the turret.

Buchanan looked at her stopwatch.

"Four minutes and thirty-four seconds. You're twenty seconds faster than last time. Well done."

Aurora put on a pleased expression as she nodded happily to herself.

"Is this how'll the race will be?" she asked.

"More or less. Actually, since it'll be on asphalt rather than a dirt road, you'll be even faster as the tires will have a better grip. Now, it's time for something different."

Buchanan mentioned to Mia who was standing not too far away. She got into the Stuart parked just nearby.

"You now need to feel the pressure of someone hot on your heels. The Stuart had as much of its weight shredded. Race Mia and try to beat her."  
"Is it really fair to compare an armored car to a tank? Wheels to tracks?" asked Aurora.

"It's the best we can do."

Aurora got back into the Puma as the Stuart drove right to them. Mia was out of her hatch, sporting a smug smile.

"Ready?" she asked.

"To win? Yes." Aurora boasted.

"We'll see." Mia responded with a snicker.

In front of both vehicles was Valarie, holding a checkered flag. She held it high above her head. The Puma and Stuart revved their engines in eager anticipation. Each rev moved the vehicles inches forward. Thick smoke bellowed out of their exhausts. The flag was lowered.

"Go!"

The drivers of both vehicles slammed on the throttle as the engines whined. The Puma quickly took the lead but to Aurora's shock, the Stuart kept its own and was just a few meters behind them.

"God! That think can move when not weighed down!" Aurora reacted.

The Puma maintained its lead but it was always under threat. At every twist and turn, the Stuart followed close behind. Aurora was sweating. Buchanan was right about there being pressure when someone is hot on her heels. It was there and it was heavy. She popped out of the hatch to command a better view, with goggles down and bandanna own to protect from the winds and kicked-up dust. The dirt road straightened out and the Puma accelerated, getting some precious distance between them. Up ahead, Aurora noted that there was an upcoming turn. She ducked into the Puma to yell at Riley, the driver, as the radios were demounted for the sake of speed.

"Drift at the corner! We can't lose our speed!"

Back out of the hatch, Aurora looked back toward the Stuart.

"Let's see you follow this, Mia." she uttered to herself.

As they approached the corner, all eight tires of the vehicle stopped and turned. The Puma jolted as it screeched around the corner. This time around, it didn't nearly topple over. Aurora looked back to see the Stuart. She expected the vehicle to careen off the road trying to imitate what they did. The tracks of the light tank abruptly stopped and Aurora watched in disbelief as the Stuart, too, drifted around the corner and sped toward them.

"Tanks…can do that too?!" she exclaimed

The race continued. The road has become more treacherous as it was littered with debris. To avoid a tire being punctured, the Puma swerved around them which came at the expense of speed. For the Stuart, with metal tracks, didn't change course. Any debris that came into contact with its tracks were subsequently destroyed, with its speed being barely affected. The distance between the two began to shorten. Aurora thought madly over what to do to maintain their now decaying lead. An idea formed. A rash one.

"Riley, let go of the steering wheel but maintain the throttle!" she yelled.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

"Maybe! Just do it!"

Riley hesitated but did let go of the wheel soon enough. Aurora maneuvered herself to a position at the rear of the vehicle. It was the co-drivers area. The Puma could house a crew of four people, instead of the current three. This fourth member's job would be to drive the Puma backward with similar skill as the driver would forward. During World War II, Germany used the Puma as a scout car. And as scouting is an inherently dangerous activity, more so than what regular armored crews would be exposed too, the Puma was designed in a way that the co-driver would take over if the vehicle was spotted by the enemy to make a speedy escape. In a war, this fourth member made sense and would also make sense in the sport of tankery. Being able to quickly escape is a quality that all teams look for in vehicles. But the fact of the matter is, no one wanted to be the co-driver. They wanted to be the driver. The responsibilities of a co-driver were so few compared to the rest of the roles of a vehicle that teams seldom ever filled them for machines that had them. Even if schools wanted to fill them, they would be hard-pressed to find someone who was willing as in some tankery circles, the co-driver position was seen as the least prestigious role any tanker can have. More vulgar people would call the position 'shitty.'

For today, that co-driver position of the Puma was being filled for the first time. Albeit temporarily. The vehicle was now veering to the right as there was no one steering. Aurora firmly gripped the rear steering wheel and the machine was now under control. She had line of sight of the Stuart and used her position to counter every attempt the light tank made to overtake. She was deadset of keeping the Puma directly in front of the Stuart. Mia, no matter what, was always in the shadow of the Puma. Up in front, Riley maintained the pressure of the accelerator. It was bizarre to feel the sensation of the vehicle being steered when it wasn't her doing it. Aurora saw a familiar whizzing by, which let her know that the final corner was approaching and the finish line was just ahead.

"Take back control, Riley!"

Riley's hands were back on the steering wheel as Aurora crawled back into the commander's position. Another corner and the Puma was in the final stretch. To great fanfare, as much fanfare five people could give, they crossed the finish line as Valarie playfully waved the checked flag. The Puma put on the brakes and parked next to the group, with the Stuart following suit seconds later.

"Ha! Beat ya!" Aurora yelled out.

"Gave you a challenge all the same." Mia responded.

"No kidding."

They both hopped out of their vehicles. Aurora removed her helmet and her hair clung to her head as a result of the sweat. She checked herself in a mirror.

"Heh. Good thing I skipped putting on my make-up."

"Great show. We got a real shot at winning this race." Buchanan said.

The Puma crew inspected their vehicle. The engine creaked as it began to cool down. The tires were warm looked well-worn. In the distance was the sound of cannon fire, it was the rest of the team conducting practice as normal.

"Now. Let's do it again." Buchanan instructed.

_Sunday_

At a shopping plaza not too far where Valarie lived was a thrift store. With her mother, they drove there. Parked out in front, her mother had something to say.

"Don't think you have to spend a lot to show how much you appreciate Emma. If the gift you think is perfect for her costs fifty cents, the low price doesn't diminish that."

"I understand. Though, even if I had a million dollars, I don't think I can ever get her a gift that can fully repay what she has done for me…for us."

"Val, personally, I don't think we can ever properly repay what Emma has done for us. She just wants you to be safe and at ease. So, when you are looking for her birthday gift, get something from the heart. That is what she will love."

They both got out of the car.

"I'll be at the shop next door. Meet back at the car in an hour."

"Sure thing."

They split and Valarie entered the thrift store. The only other person there was the owner, an elderly man at the register. He was napping and did not take notice that he had a costumer. Valarie moved quietly as she browsed the shelves. The variety of items were extensive. There were racks of clothes that looked like they were from the last century next to ones that looked like they just came out of the factory. Next to them were lamps of various styles and time periods. The wooden floor made for nice acoustics as she walked around. On one shelf was a group of glass figurines. Some were of animals, others of plants, and a few of people in poses. They were also some of tanks. One which caught her attention. She picked it up to look at it closely.

"Huh. Panzer IV Mark H. Been seeing you a lot lately." she remarked to herself.

She placed the figurine back on the shelf. If only there was a glass T-44, she'd get it a heartbeat. But alas, there were none. Ah well. She continued browsing. Valarie then found the aisle she was looking for. The electronics section. Here, on all the shelves, were devices from before her time. No doubt her parents could tell her all about them. On the bottom shelf was a cardboard box filled with retro games. Valarie knelt down and pulled out the box to have a better look. She was pleased to find that they were NES cartridges. She sifted through the contents and found games like Metroid, Life Force, and Excitebike. But Emma already had these games and played the hell out of them. She continued to rummage through and found a real curiosity. It was a little box, the type of box that NES games came in when they were sold in stores back in the day. While Valarie didn't know much about games she did know, from Emma, that retro games still in the box are uncommon. And she made a great find as the box was in good condition. Valarie read the title.

_Family Fun Fitness: Stadium Events_

Emma definitely didn't have this. In her hands, she felt that there was something in the box. With care, she opened it and was delighted to see the game itself. Then she glanced at the price.

"Two dollars? Deal."

With the game in hand, Valarie went to the front of the store. The sound of her setting the game down on the register awoke the napping old man.

"Uh? Oh, hello young lady. All set?"

"Yep."

The shopkeeper picked up the game and wore his glasses to see the price clearly.

"That'll be two bucks, little miss. A gamer, are ya?"

Valarie handed over the cash.

"Not really. It's a gift for my best friend. She's the gamer."

"Ahh…I see. How long have you two been friends?"

"Nine years."

"Ooh that's good and long. You remind me of my aunt. She had a best friend too. They lived together for fifty years before they passed away within days of each other. Natural causes but tragic all the same. What I find curious is that neither of them got husbands. Both of them never bothered with men. Romantically anyway.

"That is curious indeed, sir." Valarie responded with a smile.

With her purchase made, she left the store. As her mother was still occupied with shopping of her own, she got into the car and waited. Valarie couldn't wait to give Emma her gift.

_Port of Long Beach_

_Catalina School of the Arts School Carrier_

Madison has secluded herself in her dorm room. Her attention spent fully on her computer. Like many times before, she was reading about the Mojave Rose tankery team. As the next match wasn't until April, there weren't new updates concerning them, much to her disappointment. So, she decided to once again go through photos of the team from a news article about them. If this offer she is planning ever goes into fruition, it'd be smart to familiarize herself with their faces. There was one member of their team in particular that she was eagerly looking forward to meeting. Valarie Woodlin. Madison looked at her picture longer than any of member of the team. Slowly, she placed her hand on the screen, directly over the photo of Valarie. If anyone else was in that room with her, they'd think she was out of her mind. Madison didn't know how long she was doing this when a knock on her door snapped her out of it.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Alice."

"Come in."

The door opened and in came Alice.

"Madi, I've been talking to a few other girls and they have this concern."

"And that is?"

"That offer of yours. Look, they like the part of what we do for the team who wins the national tournament. The iffy part is your constant talk of Mojave Rose as if they are guaranteed to win. Some have said you are obsessed with them."

Madison scoffed over what she just said.

"Me? Obsessed? Alice please. I simply have a good feeling about them."

Alice stepped closer and crossed her arms.

"You know, I'm starting to think you haven't told me everything about this situation."

Madison hesitated and became flustered.

"I…um…no. There isn't anything you don't know."

"Tell me, please. I'm your friend. I can keep a secret."

Madison exhaled and opened a drawer from her desk. She pulled out a folder.

"Okay. You wanna know why I'm doing this? I'll tell you. Take a seat and listen closely. "

Madison opened the file and explained to Alice everything. It was a story that Alice in a million years would have never expected or guess. By the end of her explanation, Alice just sat there, stunned and processing what she just heard.

"Now you understand why I'm doing this. Why I'm doing so much to make this happen."

Alice looked at her in an all-new light.

"I…God….give me a minute."

Madison stood up and approached her friend and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Since you know, will you help me?"

Alice rose to meet her and placed her hand on Madison's shoulder.

"I will. As it means so much to you, it means a lot to me too."

_Barstow_

The crickets were chirping as the sun has set. The warm day was now the cool night. Homes, throughout the area, were shrouded in darkness as their occupants slept and dreamt. At one house, though, it had one window glowing an electronic blue. Ashley, as always, was staying up. While one may assume that her room would be a total mess as if a tornado has rampaged through it, it wasn't right to assume. Most of her room was respectably clean, with one area being spotless. Her computer desk. Unlike Valarie who only had a laptop, Ashley's set-up was much more powerful. A desktop tower was snugly placed underneath her desk, built by her with parts she found. More impressive, to her anyway, was the dual monitors. She did it mostly because it was cool but did find the benefits of having two monitors enjoyable. On the right screen was Photoshop. She was working on what Redwood requested. On the left was a torrent program, up and running. It was downloading files in the background. How else did she get Photoshop and the other premium programs on her computer? Pay for them? As if. As she worked, Ashley was intensely curious about what purpose this project would serve. Who is MacKenzie Hayes? Theories manifested in her head but none were popular. As it was related to the convention, maybe she would find out then. She took a peek at the time

_10:34 PM_

Still early. For her. The fake convention invitation was coming in nicely. Though there was still more work to be done, like the color. It wasn't exactly spot on. To the average person, they wouldn't be able to tell the difference. But Ashley was working under the belief that the invitation would be heavily scrutinized. With the type of work she was doing, it was impossible to be overly cautious. Ashley had to be perfect to pull this off but was confident in her skills. As she was focused, her phone lit up and vibrated. It was a message from Heather.

"Are you up? I can't sleep." it read.

"Yeah. Though I am choosing to stay up."

"What are you doing late at night? Homework, I'm assuming?"

"Do you have that little faith in me as a student? I'm hurt, Heather. I truly am."

Even in text, Heather could detect the sarcasm.

"Ha. Okay. What are you really doing?"

"A personal project."

"A personal project? Working on your next performance? What will you sing this time?"

Ashley exhaled sharply upon reading that text.

"Those days are over."

"Why?"

"Ever since I got in trouble over that so-called problematic verse of John Brown's Body, I never had a desire to perform again."

"I want to see you sing, though."

"Well, that's too bad."

"Do you think I'll make fun of you? You know that won't happen. "

Ashley hesitated in making a response.

"I know. I'm just out of practice. That's all."

"Then get in practice."

"Why do you want this to happen so badly?"

"I shared my passion. It's only fair to share yours."

She got her. Heather took a huge gamble in showing her passion to the rest of the crew. Ashley was just making excuses to avoid performing again. It wasn't fair to Heather.

"Okay. You wore me down. I'll sing you a song. But only for you because you asked. I'll need to practice for a bit so I'll let you know when I'm ready."

Heather responded with a smiling emoji.

"I'm not sleepy anymore. Good night. See you tomorrow." she then texted.

Ashley set her phone aside and resumed work on the invitation. Thinking about the conversation, a thought entered her mind. She didn't think Heather had problems sleeping at all.

_Monday_

Students arriving on the campus of Mojave Rose found that there were new decorations. All over the walls and lockers were advertisements for the prom in May. As the school wasn't huge, all grades were welcome to attend. Prom always had a theme and for this year, for obvious reasons, was tank themed. When Ray walked on campus and saw the posters, he couldn't resist letting out a quick laugh.

"Ha. Of course it'd be tank related." he said aloud.

He then felt a presence right beside him. He turned and saw Valarie, looking at the same poster than at him.

"Excited for prom?" she asked.

"Aha….no." he answered.

Valarie was surprised.

"No? Why?"

"Prom isn't really my thing."

"Oh, c'mon Ray. Prom is the best part of the year. Are you really telling me you don't care about it?"

"MmmHmm. I never attended prom before. Why start now?"

Valarie placed her hands at her hips and eyed him up.

"I get it. You don't have a date. Ray, you know you don't _have _to have a date for prom. Also, since you're on a team that is mostly composed on girls…you shouldn't really be having trouble finding one anyway. At least one of them will say yes."

"Maybe…still no."

"Really? You won't even come for the food?"

Ray genuinely considered her point.

"Not..even…for the food."

Valarie continued to eye him.

"It's the dance, isn't it?"

Ray threw up his arms.

"You're right on the money. I _can't _dance."

"You don't have to dance at prom."

"I know, But I will feel awkward as hell not being on the dance floor with everyone else. Me just standing by where the food it. God, just picturing that makes me nauseous."

Valarie sighed.

"Well, no one can force you to go. But you'll be missing out."

"Oh, I bet I will."

They departed. Unknown to both of them was a person who listened to their whole conversation. Just around the corner was Natalie. She found the whole situation funny. If it was October, when the team was formed, she would certainly tease Ray maliciously over his inability to dance. But now, she had a different idea. When prom season nears, she'll act on it.

_Later._

Emma sat beneath the palm tree, browsing her phone as she waited for Valarie to join her for lunch. In the background was the familiar ambiance of fellow students socializing, be it talking, yelling, or laughing. The sound of approaching footsteps drew her attention. There was Valarie, looking like all the energy had been drained from her. She sat down beside Emma and let out a long sigh.

"What's wrong?" Emma asked.

"Chemistry test." Valarie replied, dejected.

"A rough one?"

"The roughest."

Valarie rubbed her face.

"I'm not passing that class, Emma. I now know that I'm taking it again for my junior year."

"There's still a few months in the semester left…you still could pass." Emma encouraged.

"I doubt it. I'm so lost in that class…that…I don't care anymore."

Valarie rummaged through her backpack and got out her chemistry notes.

"I don't care." she repeated.

She stood up and threw them away in the nearest garbage can.

"Valarie!" Emma scolded.

"I know I'm going to take it again next year, so why waste my energy studying for it now? Instead, I can focus that time on stuff I actually care about. Like the upcoming match."

"Wow. All that talk to the team about not giving up and here you are doing it."

Valarie glanced at her then sat back down.

"I just…want to take a break from it okay? I want some time where I don't have to think about it."

Emma picked up her hand and held it firmly.

"I get that you're frustrated and demoralized. So, I won't give you grief over this…for now."

Valarie looked at Emma with eyes full of appreciation along with a certain other, powerful, emotion.

"Thank you. I—"

The bell rang which told everyone outside lunch was over. The two girls gave each other quick hugs and went to their classes. Emma, however, made a brief stop. At the garbage can, she collected Valarie's thrown away notes and tucked them away in her binder. She had a feeling that Valarie would need them again sooner than she thinks.

_That Afternoon_

"Everyone! Give a warm welcome to our new team members." Buchanan informed

Inside Room 34, at the front of all the desks, was four new people. They would crew the team's newest tank destroyer. Everyone was led to the garage where the new crew would learn the ropes. Once they arrived, the new people were astonished to see the team's tanks up close and personal. Their excitement grew as they saw their vehicle, all nice and prepped for them. As they started to explore their machine, Buchanan gave some instructions to Valarie.

"The degrees of separation between the T-44 and SU isn't much. Your crew would be the best people to get them up to speed."

Valarie complied with a nod and gestured toward her crew to follow. They found the new crew excitedly crawling around their machine. They watched them for a few moments, finding their behavior cute and amusing. Valarie then stepped forward and cleared her throat, grabbing their attention.

"Oh. Hi." said one.

"Hello there." Valarie greeted.

The new arrivals got down from their vehicle. One of the girls was snapping her fingers.

"Ah…Ah…Valarie right?"

"You got it."

"Cool. I'm Nora."

"Nice to meet you. My crew and I are here to help you get acquainted with your vehicle."

"Awesome."

Nora glanced at her vehicle then back at Valarie.

"The hell is that thing?" she asked, pointing.

Valarie walked up to their machine and laid her hands on its front.

"Soviet tank destroyer, SU-100."

"And the one hundred means…?"

"The caliber of the gun. This thing has a powerful 100mm cannon. It'll make short work of nearly anything that comes in front of its sights."

"Nearly anything?"

"Ha. Well, some tanks are too tough to crack from the front. That's where strategy comes into play."

Nora looked at the SU for a few moments, pondering.

"What's the best way to use this thing?"

"Long-range engagements. The long barrel gives its rounds excellent velocity. You'd shoot the enemy from afar while hidden in some brush."

"Oh, I really like the sound of that.

"Get your roles figured out and a call sign too. Then we'll continue."

Nora nodded and the new crew convened and conversed with one another. A few minutes elapsed and Nora returned to Valarie.

"We're all set. Just call us _Ocotillo_."

Valarie made note of their call sign in her playbook."

"And what is your role, Nora?"

"Commander."

She turned toward her crew.

"Leah shoots. Lana loads, and Kennedy drives."

"Let's get started then." Valarie instructed.

Each member of the T-44 crew taught the basics to their SU-100 counterparts. In the driver's seat saw Kennedy as Heather leaned in from the outside.

"The clutch isn't as sensitive as you might think so you can afford to be a little rough with it without worrying too much about stalling it. Now, the steering levers are what will really need getting used to, especially when you already used to a steer—"

Heather suddenly turned away and was now looking toward an empty space of the garage.

"What is it?" asked Kennedy.

"I thought…I heard something fall. Did you hear it?"

"I didn't hear anything."

Heather continued looking to that area for a few more moments then breathed in deeply.

"It was nothing. Nothing at all. Now, the gauges are what you expect…"

Outside, Ashley was talking with their loader, Lana.

"You ever lifted your fair share of heavy weights?" Ashley asked.

Lana stretched out her arms in an exaggerated manner.

"Last summer, I've essentially lived in the gym. I've made…considerable progress."

"Oh that's cool. What did ya do in the gym?"

"Weights mostly with some running to break the monotony. Oh, and I can bench press one hundred fifty pounds."

Ashley sported a beaming smile when she heard this.

"I think you are in the perfect role. Hey, since all the loaders go to the school weight room during lunch to get strong…mind giving me some pointers?"

Inside the SU-100, Emma shared her experiences being a gunner to Leah.

"Shooting the gun for the first time will be an experience that will stick with you for the rest of your life. The power you feel from the energy being released is just…amazing."

"Is it like having a….a…"

Leah was far too embarrassed to finish saying that sentence aloud. Instead, she whispered into Emma's ear, who in turn got red in the face.

"Um…yeah…pretty much." she responded.

On top of the machine were the two commanders. Nora listened attentively as Valarie explained her responsibilities.

"You got strategy meetings to go to which is exactly what it sounds like. It's where we, the commanders, brainstorm strategy for matches."

"Right. Matches. That reminds me, when and where is the next one?"

"April 27th, in the great state of Montana"

"Ah, just next door?" Nora remarked.

"Yep. Not far at all."

"I imagine practice will be a lot sooner."

"Saturdays."

'Thought so. I can hear the thuds of your guns from my house."

"Well, when you come to practice, you'll be a part of that."

They both smiled. Valarie's crew continued to mentor the SU-100 crew as the rest of the team tended to their vehicles. The mood was jovial. Tankery meetings were now much more than a group of people coming together to learn and practice the sport. But now also where friends come to meet and have a good time. The future was something they all thought of and looked forward to. For two people, however, the future for them uncertain. For the ides approach.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ides have arrived. No one dies, of course, but for one person, they felt like they did.

_Wednesday, March 13th, 2013_

Today was a special day for a special someone. It was the day Valarie had always remembered and not once has she forgotten. Emma's birthday. Valarie had awoken early to get her gift finalized. She got a card and wrote a thoughtful message. She held back her true emotions as she didn't know how Emma would react. She feared that Emma may not feel the same way and could irreparably change their relationship. So, to be on the safe side, the message was toned down. But, she couldn't resist drawing a little heart at the end of it. Beside her, on the bedside desk, was a small box of chocolate-dipped strawberries. Then there was the gift itself, the NES game. All three items were placed inside a sky blue colored gift bag, Emma's favorite color. The top of the bag was then tied with a white ribbon, to represent the tranquility of clouds. It looked adorable and Valarie was very pleased with herself. The bag was carefully placed inside her backpack and made her way to the familiar bus stop. Her walk was enjoyable as the day was warm as she was. The bus arrived and she boarded promptly, sitting at their usual spot at the rear of the vehicle. She patiently waited for her best friend. The bus traveled along its route and over time became more populated with students. When at one stop, and another group of students boarded, she saw the unforgettable brunette. And she saw her. For her birthday, Emma has braided her hair and Valarie was all for it. When Emma sat down, they immediately got to talking.

"Happy birthday!" Valarie greeted.

"Thank you. We're the same age now. How about that?"

"It feels special. Appropriate as it is your special day."

Emma saw her admiring her hair.

"Tell me. About my hair—"

"I love it!" Valarie blurted out.

"I knew you would." she softly said, playing with her hair.

The movements of her hands made Valarie pay attention to them. Her nails is what captivated her. They were painted a wonderfully soothing sky blue. Emma only painted her nails for special occasions, with her birthday obviously being one of them. Valarie grabbed one of her hands. They were incredibly soft. She brought her hand closer to her eyes so she could soak up every bit of detail. The nail polish was perfectly applied.

"Absolutely beautiful." she complimented.

Emma looked down as she was blushing. Her only response was letting would a cute laugh. As the bus drove along, she noted that Valarie was clutching her backpack more tightly than she normally would.

"Is there anything special in there?" she asked, pointing to her bag.

"For a special someone. You'll have to wait though."

Both smiling, the girls reclined in their seats and basked in the warm sunlight that shined through the window. As they arrived at the school and made their way on campus, two people stealthily approached Emma where one of them poked her. Turning around, she found that it was Heather and Ashley.

"Happy birthday! They both said together.

"Wow! I don't remember telling you guys when my birthday is."

"Valarie told us both. She was very insistent that we wouldn't forget." Heather said.

Ashley dug through her pockets and handed Emma a gift card.

"I hope you liked iced coffee because that'll get you twenty bucks worth of the stuff."

Heather, too, had a gift card. After all, they are reliable and could never really disappoint.

"This place not too far where I live has delicious club sandwiches. God…they're great."

"Thank you both." Emma said.

The four girls continued to talk right up until the morning bell rang. They then said their goodbyes and departed for their respective classes. For Valarie, she was excited. Lunch couldn't come soon enough.

_Later_

In the administrative area of the campus, Redwood was in his office doing his usual duties. The only sound in his workspace was the tapping of his keyboard and the clicks of the mouse. It was midday and he was just about to leave for lunch when there was a knock at his door. Before he could acknowledge it, Ashley came walking in.

"Ashley. I hope you have a good excuse for just barging in here."

"Oh, I do Mister Redwood." Ashley declared.

She then showed him a flash drive, which changed his demeanor.

"So, is that the thing? You're done? Great!"

Redwood reached out to grab the little device but Ashley kept it out of his reach.

"I just have one tiny question. Who is MacKenzie Hayes?"

Redwood tapped his fingers on his desk and let out a deep sigh.

"She's the person who nearly killed Buchanan on that day back in 1990."

"You want to bring them together? Is…is that smart?"

"Honestly, I don't know. But it could very well be the thing that is needed for her to overcome her trauma. I'm doing all this because I love her."

Ashley nodded and took a seat.

"Mister Redwood. When did you meet Miss Buchanan?"

Redwood sported a little grin and let out a laugh.

"God…it was so long ago. It was at this school."

"You both went to this school? Mojave Rose? And you guys never left this town?"

"For the most part, yeah…hey what's wrong with this town?"

"Nothing…nothing. Anywhere, where exactly did you meet?"

"In the old science buildings torn down years ago. Biology class."

"Were you dating then?"

"Ah, no. We were just friends then. In retrospect, we had feelings for each other then, but being awkward teens, we were both too afraid to make the first move. Every interaction we had makes me wince in embarrassment, but in an odd way, it was cute."

"That match in 1990. Did you guys talk beforehand?"

"A few days before at a party held by mutual friends. At this point, we'd had both graduated from the school two years before. I was in—"

"Wait, how was she in a tankery team without being in a school?"

"You don't necessarily need to be in a school to be apart of a tankery team. Tankery, like other sports, had a professional league. Back then, Mojave Rose had two teams. One for students and another made up of former students who wanted to go pro. Buchanan was in the later. There can be only so many professional teams as the ATA pays them salaries and, let me tell you, that money is _good_ money. So the competition to be a part of the league is extraordinarily difficult."

"I see. Wait, had a professional league? What happened to that?"

"Professional tankery teams were supremely expensive to maintain. And it wasn't just the player's salary but also all the equipment. Pro teams always went for the best things they could buy. In 1993, they learned that if they kept funding these teams they would be drained of cash by the end of the century. They looked at every possible option that could possibly let them keep their professional league, but even completely selling out to corporate sponsors would not bring in enough cash. So, in the following year, they shut down the league. Since then, they purely focused on school competitions."

"Miss Buchanan never mentioned anything about wanting to go pro back in the day."

"People typically don't like to talk about their dead dreams."

A brief silence. A solemn one.

"So, uh, after her match, did you guys talk?" Ashley questioned

"That day changed her completely. After she was discharged from the hospital and got a hefty settlement from the ATA, she had become a total recluse. I had no idea how to approach her…no one did. Soon, we drifted apart. Now, twenty years later, here we are, dating."

Ashley then stood up.

"All that you're doing is…romantic in a way. I love it.

She was halfway out the door.

"I hope it all works out. I truly do."

_Elsewhere_

It was a quiet place. A cool place. The library was moderately populated, with most people in the popular section of the library. The computer stations, made available for students to perform work. Mostly though, they would use them to play games. For Natalie, she wasn't in the mood to play games. She was re-reading her essay to ensure it was as polished as possible. She wasn't entirely satisfied with it but couldn't exactly pinpoint what to do to improve it. As she was reading, she felt someone roll a chair next to them.

"That your essay?" asked Ray.

"Yeah." she responded, not even turning to look at him.

"Who did you write about?"

"That Hannibal guy. Once I really learned about him…he's a pretty cool guy I'll admit."

"That he is. Did you talk about his blood oath this his father and his masterpiece that is the Battle of Cannae?

"I did."

"Good…good…may I read it?"

Natalie thought about it for a moment then scooted away, giving space for Ray to roll in front of the computer and read through her paper. His eyes darted from paragraph to paragraph to get a feeling of the thing. As it wasn't some thesis for a doctorate, he was finished not too long after he started.

"It's good but—"

"It's shit, isn't it?" Natalie interrupted.

"No. I wasn't going to say that. What I was going to say was there was some room for improvement, grammar wise.

"Grammar?"

"Well, you got run-on sentences, repeated words, comma splices, and you didn't properly format your quotes. Minor things but they all add up and can really affect the flow when reading."

Ray then placed his hands on the keyboard and began to correct Natalie's paper.

"I can get them fixed up no problem."  
Natalie didn't attempt to stop him and watched as he corrected her paper. She always had issues with essays and now understood the best way to get them improved was to have a fresh set of eyes look at them. And, it also helped that the brain behind those eyes has a knack for grammar. In just a matter of minutes, Ray has done all the necessary changes.

"I also undid all the contractions. You know, changing 'didn't' to 'did not'. Just to make your paper that much longer.

"Thanks. I got it from here."

Ray got up and made his way out of the library.

"Hope we get an 'A'!" he said.

Natalie rolled her eyes as she printed out her essay. Yet, try all she might, she couldn't stifle the smallest smile appearing on her face.

_Underneath A Palm Tree_

Emma and Valarie were at their usual spot for lunch. The day was warm and Valarie had the biggest smile Emma has ever seen on her. She held her backpack close to her as Emma watched with an ever-growing curiosity.

"I've been patient, Val, but at a certain point, you're just teasing me."  
"Teasing you is what I live for. But…I didn't get this gift for myself."

Valarie opened her backpack and got out Emma's gift, the sky blue bag, and handed it over. Gracefully, Emma untied the white ribbon and peeked inside. The first thing she saw was the card. She opened it and read the message Valarie had written for her.

_Emma,_

_Sixteen years and I've known you for nine. Seeing you grow is the best show on Earth. You are special to me, your family, to anyone you bless with your presence. Here's to many more happy birthdays._

_Valarie_

"Wow…those are some beautiful words."

"Ah…well…I wrote from the heart."

"It shows."

Emma dug more into the bag and found the sweet treat.

"Chocolate-dipped strawberries, hot damn."

She opened the package and ate one of the strawberries, savoring the combined flavors of the sweetness of the chocolate and the tartness of the fruit. Emma then moved the box toward her, motioning to Valarie to take one. She did and they both snacked on the tasty treat. A few strawberries later, Emma then put them away to enjoy them later. There was one more part of her gift remaining. Something wrapped in a pale blue gift wrap. She took it in her hands and gently shook it.

"What'd you get me, Valarie?"

"Tear into it and find out."

Emma began to tear open her gift and as soon as she did, froze. Her eyes widened and her whole body seemed to tremble. She stood up quickly and walked into the sunlight to get a better look to verify her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. As she looked at her gift in the sun, it was clear that her eyesight was perfect. It was what she thought it was. She placed her hand over her mouth to stop a scream getting out.

"Holy shit, Valarie! Do you know what this is?!" Emma asked, overwhelmed with excitement.

"A sports game?" Valarie responded, perplexed.

"Do you have _any _idea how rare this game is?"

"I don't, apparently."

"Stadium Events was only briefly on the market before being rebranded when it was bought by Nintendo. The box alone has sold for ten thousand dollars!"  
Valarie was dumbfounded.

"Ten…thousand just for a box? People really spend that much money on cardboard?!"

"And with the game included, the price is easily triple that!"

"God, I only spent two dollars on it!"

Emma placed both her hands on Valarie's shoulders.

"You, Valarie Woodlin, are god damn lucky! Unbelievably lucky!"

Valarie entered into a deep blush. Then, she looked at her with vigorous excitement.

"Just imagine the money that game can bring for you and your family!" she exclaimed

Emma looked thoughtfully at the game then back at her best friend.

"Yeah. I could imagine that. But, instead, I'll keep it and give it a nice place on my shelf. A special someone taught me the importance of gifts."

Valarie was speechless. She had no idea how much of an impact she had on Emma, how much she truly cares and appreciates her. Her heart began to beat faster. There was this intense urge to confess to Emma how she really felt about her but was too nervous to act on it. She wanted the moment to be perfect. She wanted the two of them to be alone where she would if she has the courage, confess her feelings. For now, Valarie would just have to bide her time for this perfect moment to arise.

_Friday_

The ides have arrived and the only person on the team who understood the symbolism behind the day was Ray. Though he didn't believe the associated superstitions that the day was some sort of harbinger of misfortune, misfortune was to sink its teeth all the same. The team today was in the garage servicing their vehicles, with a focus on getting the SU-100 crew more familiar with their machine. Everyone was so enthralled with their tasks that they didn't notice Buchanan, just browsing on her phone, suddenly becoming furious and marching directly toward the garage office, where Redwood sat.

"Martin, did you get this bullshit email from the Association? About a proposed rule change?"

"No? I'm a bit occupied with another matter but I'll check."

Redwood accessed his emails and found the message Buchanan was referring to. He only read portions of it before becoming upset himself.

"What? They're proposing to restrict the criteria on who can become an official tankery instructor? Why?"

"It's obvious Martin. It's retaliation against me."  
'That's…that has to bee illegal."

"Sure. But good luck proving that in court, if you can afford the case in the first place. They'll use every legal trick to win."

"What can we do, Gabby? If these rules are enacted, you can't be our instructor anymore."

"There's a way to stop this. We have a chance."

Buchanan sat down and laid out her plan.

"The Association has to go before a rules committee where they either approve or reject whatever is being proposed. Now, tankery captains have a voice in this process and can offer arguments that the committee considers before going for the vote. So, me, you, and Valarie will brainstorm a good argument and we can get some other schools to support—"

Redwood raised his hand which made her stop talking.

"Yeah…here's the thing with Valarie. An issue has come up regarding her that needs to be resolved."

"What do you mean?"

"Get Valarie in her and I'll explain everything."

Buchanan exited the office. Moments later, Valarie was inside the office along. Sitting down, she felt normal, relaxed even, but there was a tinge of nervousness.

"What's up?" she asked.

"It's about your grades, Valarie. There is an issue with them. With one class specifically.

She was becoming more anxious.

"We, uh, gotta talk about this now?"

"Yes. We do. Valarie, are you familiar with the policy 'No Pass No Play'?"

Fear. That is all she felt.

"Y-yeah. It's where if you don't have a decent GPA, you can't do extracurricular activities. Like sports."

"That's it. But, this district has a stricter variant of that policy. Here, students must maintain a passing grade in all their classes to be in good standing."

"Okay."

"And…you're failing your chemistry class."

"Alright."

"So….you can't participate in tankery anymore until you get your grade back up to a 'C-', at a minimum."

"MmmHmm."

Redwood and Buchanan looked at each other worryingly

"Valarie, did you hear what I just explained to you?"

A brief silence and then Valarie nodded.

"Are you okay?"

"No, Mister Redwood, I am not okay. Excuse me, I have to do something now."

Valarie stood up and left the office.

"Follow her." Redwood told to Buchanan.

She departed the office quickly and scanned the garage to see where Valarie went. She saw her quickly leaving the garage. She walked rapidly to catch up. Emma, noticing all the activity, was puzzled to see Valarie leave so suddenly so she too took off after her. Outside, Valarie walked toward the wilderness. She started to go down a hill but lost her footing and fell on her bottom. She didn't bother getting up and cried where she sat. Emma and Buchanan looked briefly around outside and soon heard and followed the sound of her sobs. Carefully, they both descended the hill to where Valarie was and sat down with her.

"Valarie? What's going on?" Emma asked, concerned

She turned to look at her, all teary-eyed.

"I'm off the team because I'm failing that fucking chemistry class."

"You're not off the team…think of it like you're on leave." Buchanan comforted.

"Well, I feel a hell of a lot better now." Valarie responded with heavy sarcasm.

"You just need to get your grades up. One good result on a test will do it. And you'll be back in the saddle in no time." Buchanan encouraged.

"I'm absolutely shit at chemistry. I can't wrap my damn head around it."

She put her face in her hands.

"I feel like my dreams are shattered….it hurts."

Emma consoled Valarie as Buchanan thought about what she said. Shattered dreams.

"Have I ever told you guys about my dream to become a professional in tankery?" Buchanan asked.

They both shook their heads.

"Thought not. This school once had team tankery teams. One for students and another for those who want to go pro. I had spent all of middle school and high school in a tankery team with the sole goal of becoming a professional. The sport made up most of my life. But you know how it all ends. I nearly died. What did died was the team's dream as they never went pro, the team got disbanded, and I have to live with the trauma for the rest of my life."

Buchanan then laid a hand on Valarie's shoulder, a gesture that calmed her down immensely.

"My dream is dead. But I'll be damned to let the same happen to you or anyone else on this team. Now, I don't know much, if anything, about chemistry. But I will help where I can."

"So will I." Emma added.

They walked back up the hill. Valarie had stopped crying now. Though Buchanan gave her permission to leave for the day, she decided to stay for the remainder of the day. It what she wanted to do. What she only wanted to do.

_Saturday_

It was 8 o'clock in the morning and Valarie was at home. She was intensely frustrated. She wanted to be at practice, to be with the team. On the top of her mind was the SU-100 crew. Valarie wanted to see them drive and shoot their machine for the first time. Now, she'll miss that. A frustrated groan escaped out of her mouth and plopped onto her bed, face first. The door of her room then opened in and came in her mother. She sat on her bed and rubbed her daughter's back.

"We got blindsided by this, huh?" she said

"Yeah…totally."

"We got to get a handle on this. The sooner we do, the sooner you can go back to the team."

"I'm too stupid with chemistry, mom. I can't do this by myself."

There was then the ring of the doorbell.

"Who'd said you'd be alone?"

Her mother gestured to her to answer the door. She got up from her bed and opened the front door. Right before her, was Emma.

"Emma? Shouldn't you be at practice?"

"So should you, that's why I'm here to get you back on the team."

Emma opened her backpack and gave Valarie the chemistry notes she had thrown away.

"We'll be needing these." Emma remarked.

The pair went into Valarie's room where the studying began in earnest.

_Elsewhere_

Out in the Mojave, the team practices. They were, though, short a captain. Therefore it was up to the co-captain to take the reigns and conduct practice. He was somewhat nervous but Ray was ready for the task. The team had assembled in the usual area, a good deal away from town so that they wouldn't be too annoyed from all the shooting and explosions. They formed in a line, with the IS-3 in front of them. Ray stood on top his machine talking to the rest of the team.

"As Valarie is focused on getting her grades up, I will, temporarily take charge."

He briefly paused and looked at all the commanders who were out of their hatches, to gauge their reaction. How would they feel about a male being a tankery captain, even if only temporarily? He quickly glanced at each of their faces and was relieved to see that they all had no expressions of discontent or irritation. They all looked ready to receive their orders. He took an extra-long second to look at Natalie. Her expression was the most neutral of all the commanders. Consequently, Ray couldn't exactly figure out how she felt about the situation. Did she have some internal annoyance toward him that she hid extremely well? He thought about that but dismissed it as their recent interactions, including her apology, told him that Natalie, at least not anymore, didn't hate the fact he, and his friends, were in tankery. A neutral expression is perhaps the best thing he can ask for.

"Now, I had short notice, but I managed to quickly sketch out the agenda for today." Ray continued as he dug into his pockets and retrieve a small notebook.

He opened it and read the first item.

"Alright…this team needs to get more used to being shelled."  
They looked at him with confused eyes.

"Used to…what?" Natalie asked.

"Shelling. Bombardments. Artillery strikes. We can't assume that our experience with Bascom is the only time we'll run in with artillery. We need to get so used to it that we'll be way less inclined to make mistakes under the pressure."  
As he talked, Heather shuddered and clenched a fist.

"I…don't like this. Not at all…I don't think I can stand that."

Ashley rubbed her shoulders.

"Just breath and you'll get through it. Please, don't ram out tank against the people shooting _around_ us and not _at_ us."

"I'll…try."

The SU-14 was positioned just three miles away from them. The rest of the team were in a loose formation. Ray instructed to them that there should be considerable gaps between all the vehicles.

"_Sierra, _marked on your map are spots that are guaranteed not to hit the team but close enough to rattle them. Fire at each one." Ray explained over the radio.

"Copy that." Jacqueline acknowledged.

The SU-14 crew got to work, assembling and loading the 152mm shell into the breech. Once all the math and aiming was done, the trigger was pulled. The team heard the echo of the gun and readied themselves for the approaching shell that was already plunging toward the earth. In just mere fractions of a second, the empty space that was surrounded by the Jumbo and SU-100 was consumed by a fireball. Both vehicles jolted heavily and the sound of the blast reverberated inside the steel machines.

"Holy shit, that's intense!" reacted Nora.

She looked toward her crew and saw them stunned of the power of artillery.

"We can take another!" Lana boasted.

"Hell, we can take a direct hit! Come on! Do your worst!

"HeyHey, actually, it'd be super cool if you don't do that." Nora nervously said over the radio.

In the Jumbo, things were in a somewhat different state. Each member of the Jumbo crew loved the sensation of a massive explosion happening just right by them.

"God, I feel so _alive_!" Haley exclaimed

The SU-14 adjusted its aim and another section was hit. This one near the T-44. Heather held her hands against her ears and was rocking back and forth in her seat.

"I…can…do…this." she repeated.

"You can, Heather, it'll be over before you know it."

For thirty minutes, the SU-14 maintained its barrage. Each vehicle was coated with the desert as the shelling has thrown up sand and dust into the air. Soon, Ray ordered a cease-fire. The team was left with ringing ears but a more hardened resolve. He then asked the SU-100 to follow him to a nearby ridge.

"Time to shoot that gun of yours for the first time. Though, instead of shooting at a boring, stationary hill, you'll be taking shots at something that moves. Take a look below."

Below them both was the Stuart, driving in circles.

"Go on and get 'em." Ray challenged.

The SU-100 crested the ridge and loaded a round. Lana had her face firmly pressed against the sights and aligned the gun on target. Being new, she was rather clumsy with the control mechanisms, making the gun jerk around as it moved around.

"Almost…almost…"

Her sight then had the Stuart barely in view. This was good enough, she thought.

"I got them."  
"Fire."

Fire and powder sent a round downrange. It whistled across the land and only just missed the rear of the Stuart by mere inches. It landed on the spot where it was just a second ago. Still, the impact rocked the light tank.

"Load another!" Nora commanded.

The Stuart then drove out of view.

"What? Come back!"

"No, I told them to do that." Ray said.

"Huh?"

"This was just a test of your accuracy. No one really hits the first moving target they fire upon. Still, you came real close. Besides, actually knocking out friendly vehicles isn't in our best interest."

"So, no more shooting?"

"No, we're still doing that. But now we take it up a notch. Stay where you are."

The IS-3 drove away from them. Using the laser rangefinder he has borrowed from Miss Buchanan, the tank drove a perfect 3000 meters away from the SU-100. Pleased, he hunkered down in his machine and firmly closed the hatches.

"Time to be a sniper. Take aim and shoot at me" Ray instructed.

"But you—okay." Nora replied.

Ray then felt a tug on his uniform.

"You _just_ said that taking out our own vehicles is not in our best interest." Ryan said.

"The cannon of the SU-100 cannot penetrate our armor from the front. Its pike nose means it's already angled and very effective. Besides, no one on this team hit a target at 3000 meters on their first try."

"If you say so."

The gun of the SU-100 made all sorts of little movements as Lana adjusted her aim. Then it stopped. Ray saw a blast of smoke and fire and prepared for whatever happened next. The projectile traveled the 3000-meter distance faster than anyone could have processed it. Startling everyone inside the IS-3, the round hit and ricocheted against the front of the IS-3. The sound that this produced, of screeching metal, caused them all to wince heavily. Once it was over, they all looked at Ray.

"No one hits it the first time, huh?" Ryan remarked.

"Ah…okay…um…this is a good thing."

Ray reviewed his notebook.

"Okay, next thing on the agenda…"

The team were radioed instructions to all convene on the SU-100's location. Once they were all there, they all lined up in a line, all crested on the ridge. The IS-3 was just below them.

"I have a theory to test. Is everyone's machine guns locked and loaded?"

They all responded in the affirmative.

"Cool, take aim on me."

Ray saw the team all move their turrets to get their coaxial machine guns to bear on target, directly right at him. In any other situation, this would be a terrifying moment. If this was a war, this would be their end. But, as it was just a sport, it was just a normal day. Ray looked at all the guns with a calm and collected demeanor.

"Open up."

Bullets of various calibers rained down onto the IS-3. A multitude of sparks flew in all directions as rounds either shattered or ricocheted off the hull of the sound made all involved to be in awe. Hundreds of pings as the bullets made contact, truly sounding like a heavy rain hitting the roof of some metal building. On the inside, the sound was loud. Very loud. Not one of the IS-3 crew could talk with one another effectively. This storm of lead continued until all their belts and drums were empty. All that remained were hundreds of empty and hot shell casings, littered on the floors of fighting compartments.

"I'll admit, that was fun, but what was the point?" Natalie asked.

"During that whole time we were having our little lead shower, I couldn't talk with my crew as the sound was deafening. I couldn't even hear myself think. Concentrating our machine-gun fire on a single target will mess them up bad. Perfect for targets too tough to crack."

Practice continued. As Ray was looking at all team doing their routine, looking at the T-44 gave him inspiration. He flagged them down.

"Hey, so, Emma, along with Valarie, isn't here too, huh?" he asked

"Yeah, it's just me and Heather running this thing." Ashley said.

"Hmm. Heather drives, obviously, but you are fulfilling the commander, gunner, and loader's role all at the same time, right?"

"Yep. It's not overwhelming at all." Ashley answered with a laugh.

"I'm sure. But, it gives me an idea. They'll be a time where some people in a tank will get knocked out and others will have to take over for them until they come too."

"I guess that could happen." Heather remarked.

"It can! So, in a way, it would hurt the team for everyone to just specialize in their roles. Instead, I think we all need to be jack of all trades."

Ashley and Heather looked at each other for a brief moment then nodded in agreeance.

"I wouldn't mind shooting this gun more." Ashley admitted.

"And I would like being in the turret, even just for a day." Heather said.

"Glad to hear you both agree. I'm sure Miss Buchanan would like the idea too. We'd need to set aside a whole practice to it, maybe more." Ray said.

Ray then took a look over to glance at the vastness of the Mojave. After a few brief moments, he took out his notebook and crossed off what was already accomplished. Now it was on the next thing.

"Where's Aurora? Time for the Puma to tear up the ground."

_Home_

In her room, Valarie was being tutored by Emma. She was very grateful that Emma had recovered her notes. They proved to be a godsend and made everything that much easier. Nonetheless, the material remained hard to digest.

"Alright Val, the chapter exam is on the 29th. If you can get a 'C', just a 'C', you'll raise your overall grade and be back on the team.

Valarie inhaled deeply and relaxed herself.

"Whatever it takes."

"Alright, lets practice conversions. Get out your calculator."

Valarie reached into her backpack and got out her device. Emma stared at it, bewildered.

"Valarie."

"What?"

"_That's_ your calculator?"

"Yeah? What's wrong with it?"

"It's not a scientific calculator."

"I thought all calculators were scientific?"

Emma let out a laugh, causing Valarie to blush with embarrassment.

"Oh my god, Val."

"Don't laugh at me!" Valarie scolded.

Emma opened her bag and handed her an actual scientific calculator.

"Here, this will help a ton. And, this thing was made this century."

Valarie took the device and studied it, impressed over all the functions the thing could do. With it, conversions went supremely smoothly, which delighted both girls. Afterward, Emma quizzed her on the periodic table.

"Name a noble gas."

"Ehh…Helium!"

"Good. Why are they called noble gases?"

"Because…they generally don't react with anything.

"Awesome." Emma said with a smile.

The learning continued. The morning had turned into the afternoon. All the constant tutoring, especially in a heavy subject like chemistry, made for a tiring affair. They both laid next to each other on the bed. Emma was sharing her flashcards she made to help her out.

"All the laws, formulas, definitions, and so much more. All with handy visual aides." She explained.

Emma handed her the cards. There were hefty in their weight, needing a thick key ring to hold it all together.

"Thanks Emma. It means the world to me."

"Ha, well, you…mean a lot to me. A whole lot."

The two were looking at each other. They breathing beginning to quicken. Slowly, their hands approached each other and entered into an embrace, fingers interlocked. They scooted close to each other.

"You…mean a lot to me too…Emma." Valarie said, face blushed.

The two girls continued to gaze into the other's eyes. Subconsciously, their heads were leading closer together where their faces were mere inches away from each other. The temptation was real. Both of them wanted to give in to their emotions. To do what they dreamed about for years. This urge was powerful, but, being young teenagers, they hesitated. They were nervous. The inherent awkwardness of being young caused that. Yet, despite her intense nervousness, Valarie laid a hand of Emma's cheek, caressing it gently. Their breathing no longer was rapid, rather, slowed to a near stop.

"Emma….uh…you tired? We've been studying for hours now." Valarie asked in a near whisper.

"Yeah, we could take a break."

_One Hour Later_

Katherine was spending her Saturday in the living room, TV on, enjoying a classic movie marathon. Not only was this something she loved to indulge in, her being in the living room meant that it gave the girls the space needed to study without being distracted. Spending so much time on the couch, a very comfortable couch, would only inevitably relax her to a point where she fell asleep. Later in the day, when she awoke from her spontaneous nap, she noticed a silence from her daughter's room. This intrigued her but remained on the couch for twenty more minutes when this silence now became prolonged. Now, she stood up from the couch and walked to Valarie's room. She took a peek inside and what she saw warmed her heart, nearly as much when she first held her the day she was born. There, she saw her daughter with Emma in her arms. Both sleeping serenely. She suspected something between the two, something she suspected for a while now. This, to her, confirmed it. This wholesome scene caused her to tear up. Katherine and her husband for ages wanted a child of their own, and to their complete surprise and total elation, conceived one. The only thing they wanted was the happiness of their only daughter. And by the look of things, happiness was a thing Valarie had in spades.


	21. Chapter 21

_March 18th, 2013_

In a move that is uncharacteristic of her, Ashley had awoken early. She had been awake for an hour now and she was still in her sleepwear, a tank top and shorts. She hadn't woken early to get ready for school. Oh no. She wanted to practice, one more time, before school started. From the corner of her room, she got it out of its case her guitar. She had the instrument for years and at one point was very proficient with it. But, since that time she got in trouble during her middle school talent show, her desire to perform was killed. Yet, thanks to Heather's persistence, she is about to perform again, for an audience of one. So, for the past few days, she had been refamiliarizing herself with her guitar. Even after seemingly forever since she last played it, it only took playing a few chords to get back into the groove. Ashley's guitar was an acoustic one, and also a modern one. It had the capability to be plugged into an amplifier, which she had done. However, as it was the early morning, she plugged in headphones as well so that only she would hear the sounds. With everything set up, she sat on her bed and began to play. She had a song in mind, one that she played loads of times before. It wasn't long before muscle memory kicked in.

The notes that were being played were solemn. They weren't upbeat. The song wasn't one that people danced too, rather, it was one they just listened too. Just under her breath, Ashley was singing. If anyone else was in the room, they would just barely hear it, and if they could, they would have to listen real closely to make out the words. The lyrics matched the tone of the notes being played. This song she was playing impacted her much more than any of the countless times she has played it before. Why? She didn't know. Could it be that she was performing for Heather, and only Heather, later today? Possibly. She practiced the song, playing it in its entirety, several more times. As her room became brighter as a result of the rising sun, she had become satisfied with her progress. Ashley stowed away her guitar and now got ready for school. She had this anxious feeling, a type of anxiousness she only felt before she was about to perform. It was a feeling that she dearly missed.

* * *

The sun had risen fully and Buchanan was wide awake. Her morning wasn't great. The proposed rule change regarding instructors was gnawing at her. If this was approved by the rules committee, it would mean that she could no longer be an instructor, something that she loved to do. This was retaliation, she was convinced of that. Buchanan won't take this lying down, it will be fought. She looked for a pen and paper and got to organizing her thoughts and formed the beginnings of an argument against the proposal. Ultimately, though, it wouldn't be her who would officially air the objection. It would be Valarie, and currently, her position on the team was tenuous. If Valarie fails to bring up her grades in time, she would have to miss the convention which meant that the team couldn't object to the proposal. Worse, she may even miss out on the upcoming match which would surely mess with her mentally. Buchanan rubbed her temple, head aching over the predicaments facing them. As of now, her focus must be on Valarie. Her dreams can't be allowed to die as her's was. But how? She wasn't a chemistry tutor by any stretch of the imagination. Her fingers tapped methodically against the table as she pondered, eyes closed as she did. She sat there for a few minutes contemplating for a few minutes when her eyes opened. She now knew what to do. Buchanan glanced at the time.

_11:35 AM_

It was almost time to join Valarie for lunch.

* * *

Just before the lunch break, Heather received a text from Ashley to meet her at the school's music room. Reading the message caused her to smile and generated some excitement. When class ended and lunch began, she made her way straight to the music room at the far end of the school. As she walked, the density of students diminished as they all went to lunch. It got quieter and the sound was soon reduced to a gentle ambiance. She arrived at the music room and saw Ashley, tuning one of the guitars.

"I thought you played the piano?" Heather questioned

"I do. But also the guitar."

"Impressive."

Ashley tuned the guitar to her liking and played a few notes. She then looked again at Heather.

"No one else is coming, right?"

"While I believe it'll be more fun to have a bigger audience…it's just me as we agreed. And…to make sure…."

Heather turned and locked the door. There will be no more arrivals. Pleased, Ashley got ready to start.

"You ever heard of Kansas, Heather?"

"I'm aware of the state, yes."

"No, not the _state_ but the _band_."

Heather shook her head.

"Well, time to get introduced to them. This is one of their more somber songs and a personal favorite. Ah…uh…here it goes."

Ashley began her performance the instance she stopped talking. The notes being played from the guitar were ones that calmed the soul, a feeling that affected them both. When she began to sing, Heather was starstruck as she found her voice heavenly.

_I close my eyes._

_Only for a moment and the moments gone._

_All my dreams._

_Pass before my eyes, a curiosity._

_Dust in the wind. All they are is dust in the wind._

Heather was totally captivated by her singing. Her choice of song showed a side of her that Heather hasn't seen nor anticipated even existed. She loved it. As she processed the lyrics being said, it made her think deeply about herself.

_Same old song._

_Just a drop of water in an endless sea._

_All we do._

_Crumbles to the ground but we refuse to see._

_Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind. _

Heather and Ashley were looking right at each other, eyes locked. Ashley never had this much intimacy in all the times she had performed. Then again, she never had an audience this small. She would have never thought she'd do this before, but now, actually doing it, she was pleasantly surprised how good it made her feel. Very good. She'd love to do this again.

_Now, don't hang on._

_Nothing lasts forever but the Earth and Sky._

_It slips away and all your money, won't another minute buy. _

_Dust in the wind._

_All we are is dust in the wind._

_Everything is dust in the wind._

The performance was brief yet blissful. Upon its ending, Heather didn't let out yells of admiration nor did she clap as if her life depended on it. The only expression on her face was a proud smile. It wasn't in her nature to be so expressive, other than the rare and obvious exception when she is angry. Ashley understood that and knew that even though Heather didn't clap, it didn't mean that she didn't enjoy what she did. Heather didn't need to be loud to show her appreciation. Ashley could feel it. There was a silence in the room as she put away the guitar. Heather stepped closer to her.

"That was beautiful." she complimented.

Ashley scratched the back of her head.

"Thanks…you know…it's been so long since I performed."

"You haven't lost an ounce of your talent. This is your calling, I believe that."

Ashley blushed.

"Ha…maybe. Hey…uh…a bit random but you ever been to a concert before?"

"Just have."

"Huh?"

"I've just attended a concert, with you as the star performance. Thanks for making my first concert one to remember."

Ashley took a deep breath as she briefly looked away.

"I'm…your first concert? Geez…Heather…are you trying to make me cry?"

"If you cry, I'll cry."

Ashley wiped her eyes.

"I'm okay…I'm okay."

"That song you played. I liked it. A lot. It made me think."

"Oh yeah, how so?"

"It made me think about how everything is temporary. How everything anything does will one day be reduced to nothing and be forgotten."

'That's ah…uh…a depressing point of view on the song."

"It's just how I see it. Nothing lasts forever. Not even the earth or sky, despite what the song says. One day, the planet will be destroyed by the sun in the super far future. Then the sun will die, and later, the universe itself. All reduced to cosmic dust."

"So, do you think we just stop doing things because in the future it'll all crumble away anyway?" Ashley asked.

"No. The inevitable can't be stopped or fought, just accepted. It makes the temporary, which is everything, something that can be that more appreciated."

Heather picked up her backpack and wore it on.

"In all, the song tells me to live the only life I got to the fullest. To have fun."

"Amen to that."

Ashley grabbed her things as well.

"Let's grab lunch. It's on me." Ashley said as both girls left the music room to the outside cafeteria.

_The Courtyard_

"You've been going through the flashcards, yeah?" Emma asked.

"Of course I have. They're helping. Genuinely helping." Valarie responded.

The two girls were where they were always at. Under the palm tree. As they ate and chatted about their day, the sound of approaching footsteps was heard. This would've been dismissed had the maker of those sounds not stand right beside them.

"Valarie." Buchanan said.

"Oh, hello Miss Buchanan. Um. Why are you at school so early?" Valarie questioned.

"I've been thinking about your situation and thought of something of what I could do to help."

"I thought you weren't a chemistry tutor."

"True. The last time I was in a chemistry class was in 1988, so, no help in that regard. But I can help, in a more mental way."

"I'll take any help I can get."

"Great. You both follow me to Room 34. We need someplace quiet."

The trio traveled to Room 34. At this time of day, the area of the school was totally devoid of students. An ideal place for what Buchanan wanted to teach to the girls. They entered the room. All the desks were all neat and organized, the whiteboard wiped clean. The room was cool and blocked nearly all the sound from the outside. Buchanan set down the bag she brought and took it the contents within. Candles and incense.

"What…are we doing?" Valarie inquired.

"Meditation." Buchanan answered.

"I…meditation huh?" Emma said.

Buchanan began to lit up the candles and the incense. The room soon filled with pleasant aromas.

"I learned to mediate not too long after my last tankery match, some weeks after I was discharged from the hospital. I had my doubts about it but once I got into it, the benefits were real. On my worse days, mediating helped, even if it was just a little." Buchanan then sat on the floor, legs crossed.

"And…this might too personal, but, I believe if I never started mediating, I wouldn't be here right now."

It took a few moments before what Buchanan meant by that statement really sunk in for the girls. It was an aspect of Buchanan's life that she didn't have to share at all. It was an indication for both of them that she was comfortable with sharing her vulnerabilities. It meant that Buchanan not only saw them as her students, but also her friends.

"So, what do we do?" Valarie asked.

"Firstly, lets put on the blinds and turn off the lights."

What Buchanan requested was done. The room was now darkened. Valarie and Emma then mimicked what Buchanan was doing by sitting with their legs crossed. By now, the aroma from the candles and incense was grown in strength and was in every breath they all took. The room wasn't totally pitch black as the gaps in the blinds, combined from the small flames from the candles and incense, provided a minuscule amount of light. It all made for an ideal atmosphere to do some meditation.

"Alright. Close you eyes and breathe naturally. Pay attention to your breathing. Feel how your body reacts. How your chest moves. Your shoulders. Your rib cage. Clear you mind. Just observe your breathing." Buchanan instructed with a gentle voice.

There was this feeling of tranquility that existed in all of them. Minutes of serene silence transpired that they all enjoyed. The stress, the pressure, Valarie now felt none of them. Previously, the only thing in her life that could clear her mind and wipe away her worries was being with Emma. Be it talking with her, laughing or being held by her. Valarie felt to be at perfect harmony when she was with her best friend. Now, through medication, she can achieve something close to that. For the remainder of the lunch period, the three women meditated. They opened their eyes when the bell rang, to them, just an echo.

"How do you both feel?" Buchanan asked.

"Relaxed…" Emma said, voice soft.

"I feel lighter." Valarie responded, satisfied.

"Good. Do this regularly and the benefits will grow."

Buchanan reached into her bag and got out some spare candles and incense. She handed them to Valarie.

"Use them while you're studying and all your anxieties will melt away."

Valarie took them and stored them in her backpack.

"Thanks. I'll do that."

"Well, it's time for class now. Bye Valarie, Miss Buchanan." Emma said as she left the room.

Valarie was about to do the same when Buchanan told her to wait a moment.

"I believe Heather could benefit from this too.

"Yeah, she could, but she found her own way of finding that inner peace."

_That Evening_

"This room smells way better than normal." Redwood noted.

"Sure does. Strange." Buchanan playfully said.

"Did you do this?"

"I'll tell you later."

The meeting for that day was underway. Originally, the team was to finally go over the map of the battlefield for their next match in Montana. There was something new about it. However with Valarie essentially on leave, Buchanan felt that it wasn't right to do that without her. So, alternatively, the team was furthering their understanding of navigation and map reading. Busy work, basically. As they worked, Redwood and Buchanan continued to converse.

"This room is at capacity. If we get one more crew, they won't have a place to sit. Also, the fire marshal is pretty darn strict around here." Redwood explained

"We'll just meet in the garage from now on. It has the space for a small army so its more than good for us. We'll use the room solely for commander's meetings. "

"Good idea. And since we're talking about the garage…why not head on over there? The team would like much more than doing this."

"…I agree."

The team went to the garage where they had a much more enjoyable time tending to their vehicles. At the T-44, its crew worked on regular maintenance. Emma, as she did her regular duties, found the fighting compartment roomier than usual. The commander's position was empty. Valarie was currently at home, continuing her studying. Emma had only just seen her a few hours before and yet she already missed and longed for her. She wanted to see her back in her position, both as tank commander and team captain. In time, she will, Emma thought to herself. And, in time, she will ask the question that has been bouncing around her head for years. A question that merely thinking about made her nervous. All those feelings, all bottled up and maturing inside her. Thinking about it made her blush and hum as she fantasized about what she wanted to do. She then remembered what happened on Sunday, when the two were in bed and inching closer to each other. Valarie's hands were so soft on her cheeks, an action that made her feel electric. She thought this was the moment. That this is where their relationship would be changed forever. But nothing happened. They both just fell asleep, her arms around her. Was Valarie just teasing her? Or did in the last possible moment was she overwhelmed with nervousness and didn't go any further. Emma couldn't figure which theory was correct. Emma then felt a tinge of regret. She wished she had the courage to do what she wanted to do. Oh, how she wished on that Sunday evening she pulled Valarie closer and gave her the most—

"Emma."

Emma turned to Ashley, who was looking right at her with an amused expression.

"Man, you zoned out. Big time."

"Oh, sorry. I was thinking."

"About Valarie, I bet."

"Yeah."

"Ah, she'll be back with us in no time."

"Obviously…"

Ashley then grinned and leaned closer, her mouth mere inches away from her ear.

"Of course, when you were thinking of her, it wasn't of her studying." she whispered.

Emma's face was in a deep shape of red.

"Ah…ah…I don't understand what you mean."

"Yes you do." Ashley said wryly.

"N-no…I don't"

"Don't act dumb. You want to be more than friends with Valarie."

Emma couldn't form a sentence.

"It's plain as day to me that you have strong feelings for her. I was convinced of that when you took her in when she was homeless. Admit it, Emma. You love her."

Emma couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Yes, you're right! I love her! I love her so much!"

"There ya go. Now that you've said it aloud, it's time to make you guys official."

"How? I'm just so nervous and I always hesitate. God…whenever I'm near her I'm a nervous wreck."

"Don't worry, I'll help you out. Now, I've been thinking that you—"

"Hey Ashley, can we have a word outside real quick?" Heather interrupted.

"Sure thing." Ashley said.

The two girls hopped out the T-44. Heather didn't look pleased.

"What do you think you're doing?" she questioned

"What else does it look like? I'm being cupid."

"Did you forget about our bet?"

"I was precisely thinking about the bet when I was talking to her."

"What you are doing goes against the spirit of competition. We're supposed to let things play out naturally."

"Oh, c'mon, I don't see it that way."

"If you bet money on a horse and another gambler pumped steroids in a different horse, you'd be upset. I can guarantee that."

Ashley rubbed her face.

"Let me offer one piece of advice. Just one. And I'll won't give anymore and let the cards fall where they may."

Heather thought about the proposal then nodded. Ashley re-entered the T-44 and rejoined Emma.

"Alright, Emma. It's simple. Just follow your heart. This is the only life you got to live."

Emma took a deep breath.

"Okay, I will. God…I need fresh air."

Emma got out of the tank and went to take a break outside the garage. Heather shot a look at Ashley, arms crossed.

"Hey, I only told her something that she was going to do anyway." Ashley said.

Heather rolled her eyes and the pair resumed maintenance when then they were the sound of someone climbing on their tank. It was assumed to be Emma but when the hatch opened, it revealed to be Ray.

"Hello." he greeted,

"Hi. What's up?" Ashley said

"I've been going around and asking people about practice and how I managed it."

"It was different. I liked it and I'm sure Valarie would say the same." Ashley shared.

"It was great except the part where we were bombarded by artillery." Heather added.

Ray shrugged.

"In this sport, that's just gonna happen. Thanks guys."

Ray hopped off the T-44 and headed to the next vehicle. The Jagdpanzer IV. There, Natalie just stood just beside the machine. Her crew didn't have much to do and were just lounging around. Hands behind his back, he approached her, who took notice of his arrival.

"Yeah?"

"Hello to you too. I'm just going around to ask people about practice. Your thoughts?"

"It was alright. Kept us active and all."

"Good, good. So…uh…hey, how'd you do on your essay? Has it been graded yet?"

A tiny smile formed on her face.

"I…we got an A. Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome. If you need ever need help with more essays, feel free to ask."

"I'll think about it."

"Alright then…uh…see you around."

With his departure, Natalie returned to looking to her Jagdpanzer IV. No doubt will there be more essays in the future and his willingness to help was something she'll most definitely be taking up on. It would be foolish of her to squander an opportunity to get better grades.

_Wednesday_

Valarie's tutoring continues. With Emma, the two girls were at the library each at a computer. On Valarie's screen was an online slideshow of chemistry material posted on the internet by her chemistry teacher. As she went through the slides, she rubbed her temple. It was barely noon and already did she feel exhausted.

"Anything sinking, Val?" Emma asked

"Sinking in like they're in jelly. But, oh yeah, they're getting there. Bit by bit." she answered.

Some more minutes of studying gone by when Emma decided to strike up a different topic if conversation.

"Have you watched any tankery matches? I haven't the time to do that. Hell, the last one I watched was the one we watched, you know, the one with the Japanese team."

"It was the Japanese finals and no, I haven't either. I never really have much free time ever since the team got started. Especially not now will all this studying." Valarie said.

She sighed.

"Ah well. That's just the way of things. Besides, it's better to be in a watch rather than watch them.

"You got that right."

Valarie then just remembered something and reached into her bag, pulling out a worksheet.

"Help me with Lewis structures. They are of the devil."

* * *

Lunchtime was usually the time the loaders of the team would be in the weight room to get their strength up. It wasn't a requirement however and Ashley wanted to take a break from lifting weights. So, she elected to have a stroll around the campus. She walked around the courtyard at first but soon grew bored just doing laps and changed direction to the other areas of the school. The landscape become more open, the activity of students an ambiance. Ashley was presented to a large building, two stories in height. It was the science building, filled with students whose lunch would take place later. Her eyes then looked to a large plot of land not too far from the building. There was something about that land that piqued her curiosity. The land was a different colored compared to the surrounding natural ground. There was this gray to it, nearly powdery. Ashley approached closer to the land and noticed more. Just barely sticking out in the ground were steel rebar, its endpoint looking like they were cut. They were covered with rust, telling her that it was old. Thinking about it more, she made the realization. This is where the old science building one stood, as Redwood had told her the other day. Comparing the size of the plot to the new building also revealed that the old building was much larger than the current on. Ashley stepped on the former foundations and was very perplexed over the sound of her walking on it. She took a few more steps, listening closely to the sound that was being produced.

"Is this…" she pondered.

Ashley hopped in place and heard something akin to an echo.

"It is…it's hollow."

Ashley then turned and jumped as she noticed Heather, who has been watching her for the past minute.

"Heather! Do you just stare at people all quiet like?" she questioned

"Yes." Heather responded.

Heather walked over to her.

"Shouldn't you be at the weight room with the other loaders?"

"I don't _have_ to be there. Can't I have a day just to do what I want?"

"I see."

"Shouldn't you be…um…I don't actually know what you do for lunch normally"

"Lunch is the time of day where I like to be alone. I sit under staircases and enjoy my lunch and the solitude. For today, I wanted to stretch my legs and which led me to finding you. Acting weird."

Ashley was taken aback.

"Oh, I'm _weird?_ The girl who loves to learn about alien abductions, poltergeists, and parallel dimensions is calling me weird?"

Heather looked directly at her pupils, smile gone, with a blank expression.

"Are you mocking me, Ashley Holiday?" she asked emotionless.

Ashley put on a smile and let a laugh, which had a tinge of nervousness.

"No…no…Heather. Man, it's all in good fun."

Heather can be real threatening when she wants to be. Ashley has met her fair share of people who try too hard to be threatening to a point where they are wince-inducing. For Heather, she didn't need to try. Ashley knew full well that she was capable of being violent. Her disciplinary records proved that. It might have been ages since the last time Heather fought someone, but that doesn't mean she wasn't more than willing to start one.

"So…what are you doing here?" Heather inquired.

"This ground I'm stepping on is odd. It's hollow."

"Hollow huh?"

Heather slammed her foot into the ground, producing the same echo-like effect.

"Oh, I remember now. It's the old bomb shelter."

"Yeah right, good joke Heather. C'mon, tell me what it really is."

"No really. It's a bomb shelter."

Ashley looked at the ground then back at her.

"Bomb. Shelter. Okay…why?"

"This school was built in the 1960s, an era filled with scientific progress, social change, and the ever-present fear of nuclear annihilation."

"That makes sense, I guess."

"Every place in America around that time had a bomb shelter out of sheer fear of nuclear war. The school's shelter is a huge one as it was meant to house to entire student body and staff."

Ashley scratched her chin.

"And since there isn't a cold war anymore, there isn't a need for shelters like this anymore?"

"Exactly. The shelter was then used storage facility. Now, it's all sealed up when the old science building got demolished."

They both looked at the ground.

"I want to go into the shelter." Heather remarked

"Me too, but how?"

Heather looked thoughtfully up at the sky then quickly returned her gaze back at Ashley.

"Historical preservation."

"Ah…what?"

"People love history, especially when it involves nuclear armageddon. We can try to convince the school to make the shelter into a museum or something like that. That way, we can get a look inside the thing." Heather explained

"Amazing! I love it!"

"Though…who do we go to propose this?" Heather mused, tapping her fingers against her thigh.

Ashley grinned.

"I know just the man to talk too."

_Sunday_

_Barstow Medical Plaza_

A cloudless day. Exiting from a car, Heather looked toward her mother.

"I'll be waiting. Like always." she said.

"Yeah." Heather responded in a monotone voice.

"Look, sweetheart, I know therapy can be a struggle but—"

"It is a struggle but I understand it's important for me to do it."

Her mother squeezed her hand.

"Okay. I'm glad you get it. Go on now. He's waiting for you."

Heather walked off and ascended stairs to the second level of a building, a place that provides all manner of medical services. At the far end was her therapist's office. She stood before the door for a few brief moments, and took a deep breath. She opened the door and walked in Sat at a chair was her therapist, patiently waiting for her.

"Hello, Miss Sloan." he greeted.

"Doctor Gagarin."

"Take your seat, please."

Heather seated herself on a soft velvet long chair. Her therapist just beside her.

"I've said this before but I'm glad you gotten Sundays free. Your participation in the tankery has interfered with our schedule."

Doctor Gagarin was from, immigrating to the United States sometime after the collapse of the Soviet Union. After all these years, he still has his thick Russian accent. That was an aspect of him that Heather liked.

"Yeah, it's all normalized now. I'm here now."

"Always happy to see you. Now, Miss Sloan, have you ever had moments of rage lately?"

"No, doctor. Sure, I have my frustrations but so does everyone else going through high school."

"I'm sure. Now, regarding tankery, have you had any episodes? I'd imagine a sport like that has its share of intense and stressful situations."

"It does. But I'm just a driver. I just go place to place. That's not a hard thing to do."

"So, no episodes then?"

Heather remained silenced for just a second.

"No, none to report."

Doctor Gagarin looked at her with some doubt but decided to move on.

"This tank of yours. How much do you like it?"

Heather placed her hands on her stomach.

"I treat it like my car. And I like my car."

"Miss Sloan, reviewing your history, I understand that you form strong, perhaps too strong, attachments to certain objects. Tell me, are you attached to your tank?"

Heather hesitated. Knowing that by doing makes her therapist know the truth, she might as well be honest about it.

"…Yes."

"Do you like it when people touch your tank without you knowing?"

"No."

"How do you feel when your tank gets damaged?"

"I hate it."

"Do you worry about your tank when you're not with it?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

She sighed.

"…Always."

Gagarin wrote in his notes.

"The crew you are with. They treat you well."

"They do. We're friends in fact."

"Friends? I'm happy for you, Miss Sloan. It's about time you had friends your own age.

"Friends my own age…" Heather repeated.

"That is what I wanted for so long. Now that I have them…I'm terrified of losing them. I'm scared that I'll get irrationally angry with them and ruin our relationship."

"Acknowledging that fear will go a long way in ensuring it never becomes reality. Remain determined, Miss Sloan."

Gagarin stroked his beard, bushy, and gray with age.

"Tell me about your friends." he said

"There's Valarie, so nice, and Emma, so kind. Then there's Ashley. She's alternative but that's what I like about her. And she has this beautiful voice…so beautiful in many ways."

"Friendship is a treasure, do you agree Miss Sloan?"

"It sure is doctor. It's corny, but it's true."

Gagarin looked at the time and finished his notes.

"Our time has concluded for today. Very good day, very good. Here, I insist that you read my notes before you leave."

He handed over the notes which Heather immediately began to read. A visible smile grew on her face.

"You're…retracting your recommendation that I should stop being in tankery?"

"I still have some concerns but I now believe it is for the best for you to continue. So you can be with your friends who, I bet, will help you should any issue arises."

Elation is all that she felt in her.

"Thank you doctor. See you next time."

Heather left the office and felt refreshed. Looking up to the sky, she saw it was cloudless no more. It was all so pleasant. The air she breathed tasted sweet and all her worries and anxieties, for the time being, were nonexistent. She descended the stairs and entered her mother's car and they drove home. The voice in her head, her tormentor, was aware of all this. Of her happiness. It schemed. Her mental torture will continue and it will savor every moment of it. She'll suffer alone.

For now.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The convention inches closer but Valarie only has one thing on her mind.  
Passing a test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader,
> 
> If you are aware of the current world situation, then you already know that there is a pandemic. Firstly, I hope that you are safe and secure in these times and that you practice good health habits. Second, my school has effectively shut down for the foreseeable future. As a result, I have much more free time on my hands which is why I am temporarily changing the update schedule. This story will update twice a week, Mondays and Fridays. This schedule will persist until my school resumes normal operations. However long that may be.
> 
> Thank you and enjoy this chapter!

On a lonely road, the T-44 drove. The road looked abandoned, not maintained is god knows how many years. They were cracks in the asphalt and here and there, were pits in the road. The road was flanked by a thick, pine forest. So thick that the crew could only see a few feet into the forest before their vision was totally obscured. The machine traveled to a point in the road where there was an overlook. It revealed that the road led to a commercial dock, long derelict much like the road. From their position, they saw the tall cranes that would've hauled containers onto huge ships. Its yellow paint long faded and chipping away. In another area were the containers themselves. Stacked on top of each other in high piles. They were rusting away. Occasionally, they were the sounds of galls flying about over the dock. The squawks of these birds were hideous ones, not at all charming or harmonious as the birds that sang back home. Then there were the harbors that would've been the spaces were the containers ships would be when they would load their cargo. Now they were empty, with only the cold ocean water splashing against it, waves spraying. The T-44 halted at this overlook and its hatches opened. Out came Valarie, fiddling with her radio.

"Anything?" Emma asked.

"Nothing. No one is responding. Just…static. We're on our own."

There was a strong feeling of anxiety among the T-44 crew but they remained undeterred. There was a match to win. The vehicle was ordered to press on and soon reached the docks below. They drove by buildings of various types such as restrooms and offices. All of them in various stages of decay. The ocean got rougher and water began to splash down onto the docks. Nearly getting on them. The sky above them was complete overcast and, periodically, there was a strong gust of wind. As they drove slowly around the docks, there was another feeling shared among them. The feeling of being watched. The turret rotated as it scanned the environment for potential targets. Though it seemed, save for them, the docks were devoid of any life. This feeling, nonetheless, existed.

"Stop here." Valarie ordered.

The tank stopped in the middle of the docks, structures surround them. One of these buildings had two massive doors facing them, and they were wide open. It was some kind of depot, Valarie thought. The interior of the structure was absolutely shrouded in darkness. But was darkness the only thing inside? For whatever reason, this building captivated her. She peered into the darkness and realized, far too late, that the darkness was looking right back at her. Her vision was suddenly blinded by a bright flash as something exploded. Something heading her way.

* * *

Valarie was jolted awake from the dream she just had. It was the most vivid one she had to date. She has dreams one per year at best and already she has two this early in the year? Wild. Her breathing was quick and she could feel her heart beating at a mile a minute. Valarie was on her stomach on her bed. Stuck to her face was her notes. She peeled them off and noticed that they were stained with her drool.

"Ugh."

She had fallen asleep while studying, that she figured out quickly. The dream she just had ratcheted up her anxiety so she dug into her backpack and got out the candles and incense Buchanan had given her. She went to the kitchen to grab a lighter, moving past her napping mother on the couch. She dimmed her room as the calming materials were lit and their soothing aromas filled the air. Over time, she was put at ease. Her heartbeat normalized and breathing calmed. Legs crossed, her eyes were closed as she meditated. Her mind cleared as she entered into a state of tranquility. An indeterminable amount of time passed when she then felt a soft tap on her forehead.

"Reached enlightenment yet?" her mother teased.

"Getting there."

Her mother looked at all the ignited candles and incense.

"Where'd you get all this?"

"My instructor gave them to me to help relax."

"Looks like they're working."

She then grabbed some of the leftover, unlit, incense.

"I've always been meaning to try this out." her mother said, leaving the room.

Valarie resumed her attention to her studying. Her notes were strewn across her bed, some were all crumpled up as she had accidentally slept on them. She organized them all and browsed through them. To her great delight, Valarie by now was beginning to understand some of the material. An improvement over previously not understanding any of it. Sat on her bed, she took out the flashcards Emma had given her and looked through them. The chapter exam was this Friday. Passing it would mean she could go back on the team and return to her role as team captain. Failure…well…she didn't want to think about that. She was away from the team too long already. Valarie won't let anyone down.

_Tuesday, March 26th 2013._

"What you two are proposing is…" Redwood mused.

"Is fantastic! I'm stunned no one else had thought of it before."

"Cool. So, do we get sledgehammers to bust that shelter open?" Ashley said

"Hold on now, there's a lot more included than just sledgehammers. It's not just school officials who'll have to be persuaded but the city as well. This process won't be done overnight, it'll take time."

The girls looked disappointed.

"Though, I imagine turning a bomb shelter would generate excitement which would expedite some things. And when the day comes to bust that place open, I'll make sure you two are there."

"As long as it happens before we graduate." Heather said.

The two girls left content. Redwood turned his attention to his computer. There were some important emails to compose.

_Colorado Springs, Colorado_

A popular joke about early American settlers during the 19th century is that as they traveled westward toward places like California or Oregon, they saw the Rocky Mountains and decided to forget about the west coast and settle where they stood. Can this be applied to Colorado Springs? Possibly not but the fact that the city is near the base of a mountain may make people think otherwise. That fact alone makes the city much different than Barstow but what cements the difference was the fact that it snowed. Being a mile above sea level would do that. The two cities do, however, have something in common; a relationship with the U.S military. Fort Irwin is not too far from Barstow, in fact, Mojave Rose's first match with Bascom was at a place that bordered the base. That installation is also the home of the U.S Army's National Training Center. Any tactic that the army wants to test is done there. For Colorado Springs, well, they serve as the headquarters for NORAD, North American Aerospace Defense Command. Being such an important apparatus of the U.S military, it is not surprising at all to learn that a good chunk of the city is working for the U.S Air Force in some capacity. That chunk includes MacKenzie Hayes. Having been with the Air Force for nearly all of her adult life, she had attained the rank of lieutenant colonel. Her office is located underneath the Cheyanne mountain, where the day to day activities of NORAD is conducted. Though, other than the excitement of the occasional drill, there was very much a routine that she had become accustomed too. At the end of the workday, she drove home to the nearby suburbs. When she went up and unlocked her door, she saw her daughter sitting on the couch, envelope in hand, with an excited face.

"You got something in the mail, mom" she said.

Hayes sat down with her daughter where she was given the envelope.

"If this is jury duty again, I swear to—"

She read the labeling on the envelope.

"Oh. The...association?"

"What did they send you?"

Hayes began to open the letter.

"Let's find out, shall we?'

The contents of the envelope were extracted. It was a card, made of quality material. She unfolded it and read aloud what it said.

"You, MacKenzie Hayes, have been invited to attend the 2013 Tankery Convention in Houston, Texas. Hmm"

Her daughter jumped from her seat.

"The convention! Wow! Why you though?"

"Well, I know the ATA for conventions gives away invitations to former tankers. Guess I'm real lucky."

"So, are you gonna go?"

Hayes looked at the invitation again for a few long moments.

"All expenses are taken care of by the Association so that'll save us some money."

She looked toward her daughter.

"Money that can be used to pay for your admission and plane ticket."

"I...get to go with you?!"

"Sure, why not? It'll be fun for both of us.

Hayes stood up and tucked the invitation in her pocket.

"One week in Houston. I wanted a vacation anyway."

_Barstow_

The sun has now set and it was well into the evening. At her apartment, Buchanan rested upon her bed. In the solitude of her home, her mind was in a great contrast as it was constantly thinking. There was a lot going on. There was the issue of the SU-100's old carbon lining, the race at the convention, the convention itself, Valarie's current situation, and to top it all off, her role being a tankery instructor being in jeopardy. Buchanan saw it as obvious retaliation, yet, the argument against the proposed rule couldn't mention that or she'd look insane. Not unless she had the 'smoking gun' if there was such a thing. They feared her. A fear that was dormant for the past two decades and only now in the past few weeks has it been revitalized. Buchanan could feel that they were some cover-up in relation to the carbon lining. She had an inkling about what it was but it was only a theory and theories demanded proof. Would being at the tankery convention. A possibility. Getting to the truth, if possible, won't be as easy as asking. If anything, Buchanan fully expects to get a cold treatment. Expects it and prepares for it. What can they do that she hasn't already done to herself?

_Wednesday_

"They're here. The manuals." Penelope announced.

In her hand was a box. She laid it on the table before her. All giddy, Caroline tore open the box and got out one of the manuals from the top of the pile. It was a thick manual, more like a novel. On the cover was a superbly detailed picture of the tank it was for.

"It's…beautiful." she remarked.

"High quality. Every bit of the tank has been described in extreme detail. It's an all-together excellent manual, perhaps the best Patton Engineering has ever put out." Penelope explained.

She took the manual out of Caroline's hand and put it back in the box.

"Where's the crew you've chosen?" asked Penelope.

"At the meeting room, waiting for us."

"Alright, let's go."

The pair went to where the Molly Pitcher tankery team regularly met, with their garage being used almost as much. Their team was large, and as such, demanded a large room. This room was not some spare room that their school happened to not use. It was specifically designed for their tankery team. It resembled a small auditorium. With seats all over and at the front, a stage. A room usually filled near to the brim, for today, only housed six people when Penelope and Caroline arrived. They watched as the captain and co-captain walked to the front of the room. They didn't know why they were here, but understood that the reason they were here was important…and exciting.

"What's up? Why are we here?" asked one of the girls.

"You're here because you're veterans. You all have the most experience in tankery out of everyone else in the team. You have been on tankery teams since elementary school. Because of that, you've been selected for a special assignment."

Caroline's words had their full attention.

"The team is in its final stages of making another acquisition. When it arrives, you will be crewing it."

The six girls looked at each other with eager anticipation.

"What is our vehicle?" questioned another.

"This." Penelope said, holding the manual high in the air.

Gasps of surprise and awe came from all six of them. This was indeed, something special.

"Absolutely unreal. That thing is allowed in matches?"

"It is. Now, there is no firm date yet, but it is approximated that it'll be ready in two months give or take a few weeks. You will spend every waking moment from now till then reading your manuals. It is not enough to just be familiar with the material, but to become fanatical about it."

Each of the six were given their manuals. They all flipped through them with immense satisfaction, eyes eager and ready.

"When the tank arrives, it'll be the pride of the team and the envy of others. And you all have the esteem privileged of crewing it. Get studying."

The six members near bolted out of the room to race to their dorms to begin reading their manuals.

"Exciting times, huh?" Caroline said.

"Indeed." remarked Penelope.

Penelope walked toward one of the windows and gazed thoughtfully toward the outdoors. In the distance was their massive garage that house the entirety of their vehicles. Around its entrance were team members, mingling about. There was a certain serenity to the scene.

"Has all the preparations been made for the convention?" Penelope then asked.

"Yes, though they weren't many to begin with. The school isn't participating in any events. We're just going to be there."

"But we still have a purpose there. To scoop out the competition. Any school there we will face off against in the tournament. We need to learn about them and adjust strategy against our opponents as needed."

"And there is that race." Caroline reminded.

"Yes, of course, that race. Whoever wins will have a Panther II in their roster, perhaps the most modern tank any tankery team can have."

"In other words, they'll be a threat to us."

"No…not a threat." Penelope said softly.

"A threat implies that there's a chance, no matter how scant, of them beating us. We have no threats. Just targets."

* * *

"How's your studying coming along?" Emma asked.

"Good. I can honestly say that. The material is beginning to take root. I just hope that I can do enough to get ready for the test. I want to get back to the team as soon as possible."

"The T-44 feels pretty empty without you." Emma said.

Valarie felt a rush of blood to her cheeks.

"As if I need any more motivation." she said playfully.

She looked down toward the ground momentarily. A thought then entered her mind.

"Has the team looked at the map of the battlefield for the next match?" Valarie questioned

"No. Not yet."

"Strange. We usually do that by now. Are you guys waiting for me to come back?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"If so, I appreciate it, but the sooner the team knows the map the better. Ray is more than capable to take lead, especially with what he has done at the last practice."

"He did some things and has some ideas that are unique."

"Yeah…jack of all trades." Valarie said under her breath.

"Not a bad idea."

_Later_

"Well, if she says so then alright." Buchanan said.

She got out copies of the map and set it down on the desk of the garage office.

"Get Ray in here please."

Emma left the office and a few moments later entered Ray.

"So what's up with maps?" he wondered

"Right here." Buchanan said, pointing to the pile at the desk.

"Get familiar with them and pass them out to the commanders."

Ray grabbed one of the maps and took a glance at it. His brows raised overseeing an interesting feature. One that hasn't been encountered before.

"That's new and not too far from our starting position. Hmm. I already got some ideas on what to do with that."

"That's good to hear. You know, it's time for an impromptu commander's meeting. Head on over to Room 34. Everyone else will join you shortly."

"You got it."

Ray gathered the materials and head straight to the room. There, he placed one of the maps onto the whiteboard. He then pulled down the projector screen to hide it as to surprise the commanders. As he was doing this, he thought of some other things to mention when the rest arrives. In a few short minutes, the door opened and in came in the commanders.

"Alright, lets see the battlefield." Natalie near demanded.

"Of course." Ray responded, yanking on the cord of the projector screen making it scroll up, revealing the map. When the commanders saw it, some of them made an 'ooo' sound. The interesting feature drew out the same fascinations he had.

"As you can see, there is something new for us to experience. Just ten miles from our starting position is an abandoned mining town. This is an excellent opportunity for this team it cut its teeth on urban warfare.

"Really…a town? Um, I don't really like the idea of close-quarters combat. Sounders super stressful." Sage commented.

"We could just avoid the town, but, I believe that we just can't avoid new things. What if for a match, the battlefield is a whole city."

"A city? Get real Ray." Jacqueline said.

"I am real. I've reviewed not only American tankery matches but foreign ones as well. The places matches are conducted are varied. Tundras, jungles, deserts, grasslands, and of course, a few cities."

"What city would allow tanks to drive around, shooting each other?" Robin asked.

"Ones that are abandoned. From what I have seen, a fair bit of them occurs in Russia."

"Why Russia?"

"Who knows? Just another reason why that place is intriguing. Anyway, the point is, the sooner we get used to urban combat the better this team will be."

Ray passed around the maps to all the people in the room. It was then that he noticed Emma was there.

"Um…hello there." he said

"Hi." Emma let out.

"You're here…because…?"

"For Valarie. I'm her liaison. Miss Buchanan said I could be here."

"Cool."

Ray returned to the front of the room.

"Our next match in on April 27th. After the convention. This brings me to my next topic. The race. If we win, this team will have a Panther II and only a few weeks to find a crew and train them. It requires a crew of five so if any of you knows people interested in the sport, let them know what is going on. I would love a crew ready the moment the tank arrives, should we win."

Everyone nodded.

"We're in the quarter-finals. Maybe some of you thought we'd never make it this far. Well, here we are. Now, I'm not going to say that we will without a doubt win the tournament. Who the hell can say that? No one. Anyone who does is just talking out of their ass. What I will say, and I'm positive Valarie would say the same, is that the only thing expected from all of you is your best. And hey, if it looks like we're gonna lose, then make it a blaze of glory."

_Thursday_

Prior to heading to the school bus, Valarie made a modification to the jewelry her parents had given her. The decoration, a diamond-shaped to look like a drive sprocket was beautiful but fragile. She feared it getting irreparably damaged one day, so she carefully detached it from the necklace and stowed it safely in a little box on a soft piece of cushioning. It was then placed on her shelf. Her necklace, resembling tank tracks and made of sterling silver, was modified as well. It was made to fit much more snugly around her neck, akin to a choker. After a bit more fiddling around with it in front of a mirror, she was satisfied. Very satisfied. Valarie loved her look and was certain that others would concur. She left home and had a stroll to the bus stop. It wasn't long before the bus arrived and when Emma then boarded the vehicle herself a little later. She sat down and immediately touched Valarie's necklace.

"You've made a change, I see."

"Like it?"

"Love it."

Emma then made another observation. One a little less positive.

"You look tired.

"I'm exhausted." Valarie admitted.

"Why?"

"I've was studying so much yesterday the moment I came home from school. I didn't stop until I passed out from exhaustion."

"You're pushing yourself too hard, I think. You just need a 'C' to get back on the team."

"I know, but I want the odds to be as much in my favor as possible."

"I get that, but please, get a good sleep tonight. The absolute worse thing that could happen is you sleeping through your test."

Emma waited for Valarie's response but it didn't come. She had fallen asleep mid-conversation. Emma decided to let her sleep for the few precious minutes before the bus arrived at school. She gently placed her hands over Valarie's and held it firmly. Doing so caused her to immediately blush, stomach filled with butterflies. To say that she was happy would be an understatement. She wanted this moment to last forever. Much to her displeasure, the bus stopped at the front of the school and students were making their way off the vehicle. Valarie was gently shaken awake and the two girls went off their classes. Emma will absolutely replay that moment in her head again and again. She will savor it as it tasted oh so sweet.

_Later_

At the end of the school day, with the sun already well on its way to the horizon, the meeting was underway. At the garage, the team assembled and performed their regular duties. The tankery convention was two weeks away, during their spring break. As it drew nearer, as did the excitement and the nervousness. The race was on everyone's mind. The prospect of winning a Panther II was tantalizing. Then there was the aspect of getting there. It won't be by bus, rather, via a plane. Most of the team never been on an airplane before so, naturally, people somewhat anxious about it. Then there was also the match all the way in Montana. No one has traveled that far and it'll necessitate another flight. The month of April seems to be full of new experiences.

Buchanan was walking around the garage, looking at the team as they worked. As she passed by the SU-14, she noticed the crew doing something with their shells. One of the crew had a paintbrush in her hands and writing on the shells. Curious, she walked over to them.

"Having arts and crafts are we?" Buchanan teased.

"Oh, are we not supposed to do this?" Jacqueline asked.

"Ah, it's fine. I just want to see what you girls did."

Buchanan looked at the painted shells. One of them had the word 'Catch' written on them, causing her to grin. What they wrote of their shells was funny to her.

_From The Mojave, With Love_

_Special Delivery_

_From: God, To: You_

Then there was one that caused her to let out a short laugh. Buchanan tapped on it to get their attention.

"I like this one the most but I'm not sure Mister Redwood would agree with it."

"How come?"

"Well, telling other teams to go fuck themselves is something I would imagine he wouldn't like. But hey, I can keep a secret though…as long as it wiped away."

Buchanan resumed walking around the garage. Something that she noticed only recently was how less and less was the team approaching her with questions. When the team first got formed, it was a relentless onslaught of questions which was more than happy to question. Soon, though, it was Valarie who took on the mantle of answering questions and after a bit more learning and first-hand experience, now, anyone who had questions first went to their commanders. Who more often than not, had the answer they were seeking, Buchanan still had a purpose, albeit currently tenuous. The current situation was she expected, looked forward to even. It meant that the team was no longer a collection of amateurs. Yet they were not yet masters. There was still much to learn and experience. As she walked, it wasn't long before she stumbled upon another curiosity. This one making her raise an eyebrow. A small group of students was all huddled around one of the air vents. One of them was on their stomach looking into it as another was trying to pry off the vent. When the metal began to bend, she intervened.

"What are you doing with the vent?" she asked

"There is something inside. We heard it move." a girl asked.

Buchanan knelt down by the vent and looked within between the slits. All she saw was the darkness, but careful hearing did indeed confirm that something was inside. Something small. She then stood up and turned to one of the students.

"Get a screwdriver so we can get this thing open."

The student went to the nearest toolbox and returned with the appropriate screwdriver. The screws were twisted and Buchanan pulled off the vent cover. She put it aside and immediately crawled into the vent, which alarmed the students.

"Um, what if something bad is inside? Like a raccoon and scratches you?" one said worryingly.

"I'll be fine." she reassured.

Her hands were out in front of her to feel where she was going. She felt mostly the cold metal of the vents when she then felt something soft. And warm. This thing reacted to being touched by moving closer to her, not in a threatening manner, but as if it too was curious. Buchanan felt the thing walking, its little footsteps making little echos in the vent. She grabbed on to it with both her hands and backed out of the vent. In the light, it was revealed to all what was in the vent.

"A cat!" exclaimed one of them.

The mood in the group instantly transformed into excitement as everyone moved in closer to pet the cat. Buchanan held the animal closer to her chest.

"Woah, hold on now, you'll freak out the cat. Everyone calm down."

"Man, it sure does look like it's freaking out." another said sarcastically.

The cat in Buchanan's arms was barely reacting to the situation it was in. It simply rested its head against her body and purred.

"Okay, well, it's not feral we know that now." Buchanan said.

"It's a stray then." one declared.

"We don't know that exactly…but it doesn't have a collar and its fur looks unkempt. If this was someone's cat, they lost it a while ago."

"So what do we do?"

Buchanan glanced down toward the cat. Its white fur tarnished by the filth of being in the vent and god knows where else. It continued to purr, eyes closed. It was very comfortable, that was clear to everyone. As the group discussed what to do with it, another student who was watching everything go down came over.

"Hey! I've seen that cat before."

"Really? Whose its owner?" Buchanan asked.

The girl shrugged.

"Dunno. All I know its that the owners abandoned her when they moved."

"Her huh? What's her name?"

"No idea. I just know this information second hand."

Buchanan began to pet the cat.

"Abandoned…well that means she's up for grabs. I think…I'll take her in."

"What are you gonna name her?"

Buchanan pondered for a moment, looking at the cat.

"Soap. I'll name her Soap."

Buchanan walked off, Soap in hand. She was already playing with her as she went to the office to show her off to Redwood. One of the students had a perplexed expression.

"What the hell kind of name is Soap?"

_Friday_

Valarie had awoken early. Instead of browsing her phone while in bed, she immediately dressed for school. She slept early last night, even though she would've prepared to study late into the night. However, at Emma's request, she got a good night's sleep. Compared to yesterday, she had more energy and was more alert. She took a look at her notes. She had looked at them so much and for so long that the information have been seared into her mind. A good thing, she thought. All of her material were stored in her backpack, ate a quick breakfast, and sped off to the bus stop. Waiting, she got out the flashcards and continued reviewing them. Her eyes were glued to them, even when she was boarding the bus and sitting at the rear. So consumed with her studying that she failed to notice Emma taking her seat next to her. She felt a prod on her shoulder.

"Ready?" asked Emma.

"As I'll ever be." Valarie replied.

"Guess by lunch we'll know."

Valarie returned to her flashcards and Emma let her be as to not distract her. When they arrived at school and got off the bus, they faced each other.

"Good luck Val. I know you'll pass."

"Thanks. I'm going to need every bit of luck for the test."

They shared a hug, one that lasted longer than usual. But neither complained. They then went to their respective classes. In the classes leading up to her chemistry class, Valarie studied wherever she could, squeezing out minutes of free time here and there. As the clock ticked, an anxiousness within her grew steadily. A knot in her stomach began to form. There were a lot of things at stake with this test. At the end of her third period, the one before her chemistry class, Valarie went directly toward the bathroom and into a stall, being the quietest place she could find. She then meditated the best she could. Her breathing was focused and her mind decluttered. The meditation was brief but helped immensely. Afterward, she went to her next class. Once there, she took her seat and mentally prepared herself for what was to come. She took one more glance at her notes until the class was told to put everything away save for a pencil and calculator. The test was then passed out. Once it was in everyone's hands, the teacher told everyone to begin. The simultaneous sounds of pencils hitting paper filled the room. Valarie's mind was fully concentrated on the task at hand. A question was answered, then another. Then five more. She wasn't guessing as she did in previous tests or quizzes. Valarie actually had an idea of how to answer them. The feeling of being incompetent was no more.

For this test there was an accompanying bubble sheet. The answers would be found on the test and then transcribed onto the sheet where it would then be scanned for instant results. Students will leave class knowing how they did. The entire class period was dedicated to the test. As the minutes go by, one by one, students finish and turn in their test. Their bubble sheets were scanned and shown to then. When Ashley stood up to turn in her test, Valarie paused her work to watch. She handed over her sheet and was shown her grade. When she turned around, Valarie noticed that she was smiling. When Ashley walked by her, she gave Valarie a quick wink. Shaking her head, Valarie turned back to the test. Twenty minutes have passed and the last question was answered. Her test was absolutely covered with her work such as formulas, equations, and other kinds of math. It was a first for her to finish her test before class ends. She hoped this was a good sign. Valarie got up from her seat and approached the front of the room. She handed over her bubble sheet where it was then scanned. The monitor was then turned toward her here.

"Okay, here's how you did."

_Midday_

Emma was patiently underneath the usual palm tree. She was playing with her phone though she would periodically tilt her head up to look to see if Valarie was on her way. She was taking longer than usual to return from her class, which caused some concern. She remained, however, optimistic. Soon, she caught sight of her, walking toward her in a normal manner. As she got closer, she noted a slight grin on her face. When she arrived, she simply sat down quietly next to her.

"How'd you do?" Emma wondered.

Valarie's grin transformed into a huge smile.

"I. Aced. It."

Emma jumped from where she sat.

"No way!"

"Hell yeah I did!" Valarie exclaimed, jumping up as well.

"You're back on the team!"

"You're god damn right I am!"

The girls entered into a warm, tight embrace.

"Thank you, Emma. You made this possible." Valarie said.

"Always happy to help."

They both laid on the ground, their eyes to the sky. It was a beautiful pale blue graced by puffy clouds that resembled whatever the human mind wanted to see. The sense of accomplishment coursing through Valarie's veins made her feel amazing. She also felt proud. Proud that in a class that she suffered in managed to pull off such a smashing success. Valarie was looking forward to the meeting that day, more than she had ever felt before. For there is no better feeling than being back in the saddle.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have done all they could. Now, it was onto the Lone Star state. What fun and drama await the Mojave Rose team!

_Saturday, April 6th, 2013_

At campus, the garage was filled with the usual crowd. The team was mingling about, though there was a vehicle that was noticeably absent. The Puma. Its parking space was empty. The armored is the first among the team to begin the trek toward the convention. It has been loaded on a freight train toward Texas and will meet the team there come race day. The Puma crew, along with other members of the team who were designated as the pit crew, felt that did they did everything they could to prepare for the race. For everyone, they didn't have much to do in regards to their vehicles. The purpose of today was not to practice but to finalize all preparations for tomorrow's flight to Houston. They're due at noon.

"I'm going to ask again. No one has a fear of flying, right?" Redwood asked.

"How do you know if you're afraid of flying if you never flew before?" a student questioned.

Redwood stared blankly at her before responding,

"I guess we'll find out tomorrow."

In the garage office Valarie, Ray, and Buchanan were having a private discussion. Now that Valarie was cleared to return to the team, it was now time to inform her and Ray of the current situation.

"I don't want to spoil the upcoming fun of the convention, but, there is a situation that you two have to know about. At every convention, there is a rules committee that convenes. They hear all rule proposals by the ATA and decide whether or not to implement them. For this year, a proposal is up for consideration regarding tankery instructors. If it passes, it would mean I can no longer be an instructor due to the much stricter requirements."

Ray and Valarie exchanged worried glances.

"What can we do about that?" Valarie asked.

"Tankery captains can voice their opinions on proposals that the committee takes into account before their vote. Now, I've written up some arguments against the proposal. You both will read and add-on as necessary."

Buchanan passed her notes to both of them.

"Valarie, you will voice the school's formal objection. Ray, you'll act as a supporting role and help her out when needed."

They both nodded.

"So, when is this rules thing going down?" Ray questioned.

"Friday, the last day of the convention. So we got some time to prepare for it."

With that, the conversation ended and Ray and Valarie returned to their respective crews. Buchanan remained in the office for a few more minutes to use the relative solitude to contemplate. For most of her life, weeks seem to go by with nothing happening worth remembering. Next week, she anticipates that it'll feel like a year. One week absolutely filled with things to do. And that is all the things she is aware of that is occurring. Who knows what else could pop out seemingly out of nowhere.

_Sunday_

It was 7:30 in the morning. The sun, at this time of the year, was above the horizon so early morning weren't dark at all. The team was out in front of the school awaiting the bus that would take them to Ontario International Airport. Alongside the students were all the bugs they were carrying. All the clothes and other necessities, and some luxuries, to last them the week. Valarie was among the last to arrive. She got out of the car along with her mother.

"Be safe, alright?" her mother reminded.

"You told me to be safe a thousand times. I'm not even kidding."

"And I'll say it a thousand times more. Don't go anywhere remotely sketchy."

"Alright, I'll be smart and safe. It's not like I'll be alone anyway. I'm going to spend most of my time at the convention."

"I know, I know."

They hugged.

"Have fun Val. Love you."

"I love you too."

Valarie got her bags and joined the team in waiting for the bus. A few minutes before the eight o'clock hour, the vehicle arrived and the team stowed their belongings in the storage hold and boarded the bus. Once everyone was snugly in the bus, the door was closed and they drove off. Off to Houston. Inside, everyone was chatting. Ontario Airport was over an hour away so they got comfortable. Some people elected to return to sleep as they had to wake up early to make it to school in time. Up in front, Redwood and Buchanan were sat next to each other. Much like everyone else, they were talking.

"So...this cat..." Redwood began.

"You mean Soap?" Buchanan said.

"Yeah. Soap. You're positive you want her?"

"Yes. I've always liked the idea of having a cat so when I found Soap, it just seemed perfect. Besides, she was abandoned so that little fact played my heartstrings to a fine-tune."

"I think it's working on me too...anyway where is she now?"

"Under the care of a trusted neighbor."

The bus turned onto the I-15 which would take them all the way to the airport. Soon, there were driving past places like Victorville, where Bascom was, and not too long after, Hesperia. Some time driving later and they entered Cajon Junction. The freeway was now flanked by two large hills, both arid. Not too far from them was another stretch of road, the historic Route 66. This scenery wouldn't last too long as it would soon abruptly change from hills to a sea of suburban houses and other kinds of buildings, as far as the eye can see. People who were looking through the window and happened to look toward the sky can see commercial airliners flying to and fro. They weren't high in the sky but looking like they were in the process of taking off and landing. The bus then got off the freeway and was just minutes away from the airport. Their surroundings were one that was very much urban. Office building here and there. As they got closer to their destination, the landscape was filled with restaurants, car rental services, and many flavors of inns and motels. Everything needed to cater to the flying traveler. Finally, shy of ten o'clock, the bus parked right in front of the terminal. The moment the doors opened, a flood of students rushed out to collect their belongings. With their things, they all entered the airport and proceeded to check-in. The interior of the airport, combined with the sound of planes taking off, made for appealing acoustics. Checking in went as smoothly as it could and soon the team was the gate, waiting for their time to board. Valarie and Emma, as always, were sat next to each other.

"Nervous?" Valarie asked.

"...A little." Emma responded.

"Same here. It's gonna be fun, I hope." Valarie assured.

Looking out the window, Valarie watched the airport at work. Outside was their plane, currently being prepped. At its rear, she could see workers lugging the team's bags onto the plane. Underneath one of the wings, a truck was parked where it was pumping the plane with the fuel needed for the upcoming trip. Behind that was more activity. Occasionally, there were little carts, cars, and trucks driving past on their way to destinations Valarie could only being to think about what they were. The main crowd-pleaser was, of course, the planes taking off. She could see them taxi toward the far end of the runway. With immense power, those planes sped up and got off the ground. The power she felt, just being at the gate, was incredible. And to think that very soon, she'll feel that power firsthand. In time, the call was given for the team to board their plane. Valarie managed to snag a window seat, which she understood was a seat that was coveted. Once everyone was settled in, the plane began to taxi. Valarie watched as the flight crew gave their safety presentation, one they've given a million times before but, for Valarie, was one that she found oddly fascinating. After a few short minutes of taxing, the plane made a turn as it orientated itself on the runway. Everyone was settled in for the three hour or so flight to Houston. Near the rear of the plane, Natalie was all set up. She had rummaged through her bag to retrieve a book she intends to read for the duration of the flight.

"Oh? A book? For what class?" asked Jane, her friend and the Jagdpanzer IV's driver.

"Not for any class. Just to occupy my time."

"Ah okay. What is it?"

"The War of the Worlds. I heard a good review about it."

The engines of the plane now began to rev as the vehicle move forward. The plane was accelerating rapidly as the engines were as loud as thunder. The force of take-off made everyone stick to their seats. Some of them were uncomfortable over this but for others, it was an amazing experience. Valarie was absolutely overjoyed over what was happening. She then felt the plane get off the ground and quickly looked out the window. She looked with satisfaction as the ground got smaller and smaller. They were airborne and climbing to thirty thousand feet. There were on their way.

_Monday, April 8th, 2013_

_Houston, Texas_

The first day of the 2013 Tankery Convention has begun. The Mojave Rose team, much like the previous they have traveled, were residing in a hotel room in the same configurations. Commanders get the bed and everyone else sleeps on the floor. The hotel the team was in was at a great spot, only a block away from the convention. So great was the spot that the hotel as at capacity. Each room booked. They were lucky to get their rooms. The T-44 crew was all wake, just a few minutes before the nine o'clock hour. They were in the process of getting ready.

"I really don't care if you guys see. We'll all friends here." Ashley said.

The remaining three girls had their backs to her, all staring at the opposing wall.

"Well, _I_ care. So we're all gonna look at this wall until you're all dressed." remarked Valarie.

"Fine…" Ashley said with a sigh.

There was the sound of clothes being moved.

"I'm all set."

"Alright…" Valarie said.

She turned around, gasped, and very quickly was back looking at the wall. Red-faced.

"You're…You're not done!" she stammered.

"I'm wearing a bra. Relax. Like you've never seen anything like this. You've had P.E yeah?"

Heather and Emma let out some laughs as Valarie's face remained red.

"Your bra is matches your skin color. I thought you were…uh…well…yeah…"

"Yeah indeed."

Ashley put on her tank top.

"Okay, I'm done. For real now. Are we ready to go?"

Valarie, along with the others, turned around, Her face was still partly red.

"Yes. We gotta meet everyone else down in the lobby. Let's head on down."

The four girl left their room and went toward the elevator. As they got on and the doors closed, a hotel room on the same floor flung open. Out came out two girls, similar ages, wearing their school uniforms. All black save for their red tie. One of them was carrying a notebook.

"So, what exactly do Penelope and Caroline want from us?" asked one.

"Info on all the schools still competition on the tournament. What we can learn from a team's behavior can tell us a lot on how they conduct tankery matches. From there, strategy can be adjusted for best performance."

"Cool."

"Alright. Now, let's see…"

The girl with the notebook opened it to a specific page.

"I've written down who we're supposed to…stalk I guess."

"Who?"

"Mojave Rose. California school from Barstow."

"How do we find them?"

"From their school uniforms."

"What if they don't have school uniforms? What if they are just wearing their casual clothes?"

The other girl just looked at her.

"Hmm. This is going to be harder than I thought."

At the hotel lobby, it was already a crowded place despite the early hour. Nonetheless, the T-44 managed to easily find their team among the crowd and link up with them.

"Good morning everyone. Before we head on over to the convention, I got some things to say." Buchanan announced.

"The main reason we are here is the race, which is on Wednesday. But the race is not the only thing that is happening this week. There are dozens of events and activities to occupy your time. Some are fun. Others are educational. You're not obligated to do any of them. If you just want to spend your week just walking around, I'm not gonna stop you. Still, it would be your best interest to attend the education ones. Especially if you're a commander…or a captain."

With that, they all walked toward the convention. The building that housed it was immense in proportions. Everyone felt dwarfed compared to it once they got close enough. Already, on the outside, was an innumerable amount of people. They were waiting for the doors to officially open. The weather was chilly, with the occasional wind gust forcing some to zip up their jackets. Overhead were clouds, thick and gray. A storm was brewing but this was irrelevant for all involved. They were going to be inside anyway. The Mojave Rose team didn't have to wait long 9:30 exactly, convention officials unlocked the doors and a flood of people entered. The interior was as, if not, more impressive. The convention was multi-storied with every square inch used to entertain attendees. Already, the team dispersed among the crowd as they explored all aspects of the place. The T-44 paused not too far from the entrance to contemplate their next course of action.

"So…" Valarie said.

"So. What's first?" Emma said.

"I'm going to find the lounge. A place like this gotta have one. I just want to chill." Ashley explained.

"I'm going to knock out the educational stuff early and do things related to drivers." Heather added.

They went off, leaving Valarie and Emma alone. They looked at each other.

"I'll go where you'll go." Emma said.

"Same."

Valarie looked around a bit.

"Let's just walk around the ground floor and see what's up."

With a plan now in had, the pair walked the convention. There were all manner things out set up. Booths and display as far as the eye can see. Stalls selling shirts and other merchandise to booths selling showcasing tankery equipment for everyone to try and experiment with. They walked past television screens that were playing tankery matches. The girls stopped and watched them. Then, Valarie excitedly pointed to one of the screens.

"Oh my God. It's her!" she exclaimed.

"Her….who's her?" Emma questioned

"Miho Nishizumi. It was her match we watched back in November. You know, the one with the Maus and the duel between her Panzer IV and Tiger. Her sister commanded that Tiger. God. Imagine that. She must've felt a million emotions during that match."

"I bet it was more than a match for her." Emma commented.

"No kidding."

Emma looked at the other screens and then pointed as well.

"Hey! That's us!"

They both hurriedly approached the screen and watched intently.

"It's our Arizona match." Valarie said.

On-screen, it displayed the Mojave Rose team as they fought against Valentine. Their action with the SU-14 and the gas depot was featured prominently. It caused Valarie to become embarrassed slightly.

"Ah geez…I regret that order now."

"You feeling regret means that you've grown. That's a good thing." Emma said.

Valarie smiled.

"It is, huh?"

They continued watching. When their T-44 appeared on screen, they were excited.

"There we are!" Emma exclaimed.

"Wow. It's a weird feeling to see yourself on TV."

"Well, I feel special to know a famous actress such as yourself." Emma teased.

Valarie blushed hard.

"Oh lord…"

"Tell me, Miss Woodlin…" Emma asked, pretending to hold a microphone.

"…your latest film is well on its way to sweep the every awards show. Your thoughts?"

"Oh my God…Emma!" Valarie said, laughing.

"Rumors say you're next film will have you co-star with Matt Damon. Can you confirm or deny?" Emma continued, clearing enjoying every second of it.

Valarie couldn't respond as she had to stop herself from laughing too hard. She looked away, hand covering her mouth.

"If you could, you'd keep me blushing for the rest of my life."

"If? Oh, I can!" Emma rebutted.

After having fun around the televisions, they resumed walking around the convention. It wasn't long before they found something else that captured their full attention. In a more open area of the hall was a wooden mock-up of a vehicle. A vehicle that Valarie immediately identified. They ran up to the thing all giddy.

"It's an E10!" Valarie exclaimed.

"Looks like it. You told me about this thing once or twice." Emma said.

"From Germany's _Entwicklung _program. Standard panzer. Just look at it. The roadwheels look like the ones on a King Tiger. The whole point of the program—"

"Was to streamline the manufacturing of armored vehicles through the standardization of tank designs. This was to increase the rate of tank production and to improve the mechanical reliability of Germany's panzer army." Emma said with a smug smile.

Valarie looked at her, amazed.

"I've heard you say that constantly. To a point where I've memorized it." Emma explained.

"Wow."

They admired the mock-up of the E10. What amazed them the most was the size of the thing.

"The size of this tank is staggering. It's only an inch shorter than I am." Valarie commented.

"Grown men were supposed to crew that thing? I can't even imagine _myself_ in that tank. I feel I'd be too cramped. Still, I bet it can hide anywhere."

"That it could. If it was ever built."

"Mmm. Tell me, Valarie, what vehicles can or can't be in matches?"

"I can't say how they do it in other countries but for the U.S, it's like this. As long as the vehicle was built, it can be in play. It didn't need to be fully constructed either. If the vehicle only had its hull made it can still be accepted into play. It meets the criteria set by the ATA."

"I see. So, schools can have tanks that were just prototypes and experiments?"

"Yes. Our VK is a prototype. As long as the vehicle exists physically in some way, it can be used in matches. A prototype doesn't mean its better though."

Emma looked around the hall and spotted something truly special.

"Well, is that prototype good though?" she said pointing beyond Valarie's vision.

She turned around and let out a surprised gasp. Valarie grabbed Emma's hand and led her directly toward it. It was something that the two had seen before only in pictures. Now, here it was right before. In the flesh. Well, steel actually.

"An honest-to-god Panther II." Valarie said.

The tank looked exactly as it did in the promotional pictures. The thing looked ready for a match at a moment's notice. All of its special equipment was out and proud. The girls laid their hands on the side of the hull, the metal nice and cool.

"Marvelous, isn't it?" Said a voice just out their peripheral.

They turned to the source of the voice. It was a girl around their age. She was wearing a school uniform, all black with the exception of a very red tie. It was so formal which was in contrast to the clothing of Valarie and Emma which were casual shirts and jeans.

"Yeah, I read about it so much but it's another feeling entirely to see it for yourself. Let alone touching it." Valarie said.

"I understand that feeling one-hundred percent. I knew this tank was out in display and yet, I still have goosebumps.

The trio looked at the tank silently together for a few moments.

"Are you in the race to win this thing?" Emma asked the girl.

"Oh no, not my school. The Panther II is an impressive machine but we're not going to expend any efforts to compete for it. Besides, we don't have any armored cars and a race like this favors them heavily. You?"

"Yeah, our school is participating. Might as well give it a shot, you know? Maybe we'll win. Maybe we won't. It'll be fun all the same." Valarie said.

"Very cool. What school are you? I don't think you've mentioned that.

"Mojave Rose" answered Valarie.

Upon hearing that, the girl slightly raised an eyebrow.

"Ah. Mojave Rose. I've heard of you. Your showing at Arizona, I'll admit, is impressive.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Are you the one doing the racing…?"

"Valarie. And no, I'm not. Our team's Puma will be racing.

"Then I will keep a sharp eye on your Puma. Good luck, Valarie."

The girl departed and left them alone.

"She seems nice. But she didn't say what school she is from." Emma remarked.

"Maybe she thought it wasn't important." Valarie suggested.

"But it was important for her to ask about our school?"

"Yeah…uh…makes you think. I'll just chalk it up as a mistake. It happens.

The girl made sure to walk a good distance away from the Panther II. Then she whipped out her phone and made a call.

"Caroline. I've just met Mojave Rose. The race became that more important to watch on Wednesday."

* * *

Buchanan was wandering the convention. Alone. Redwood was with her but a presentation of the academic benefits of tankery took him away from her. So she was alone. Relatively. She was still surrounded by a sea of convention attendees. It wasn't noon yet and it was already was the day dark. A storm was beginning to roll in and it was already starting to drizzle. She briefly thought about if this weather would impact the race in any way. Not a chance, she concluded. Like the ATA ever views the weather as a serious threat. As she was exploring the convention, she saw something that piqued her interest. A tankery instructor social. Sure, why not? Buchanan headed over. It was held in a separate room, an auditorium. Inside were other tankery instructors. All women. Some were around her age, others far younger, others far older. They were all talking among themselves. Before she could throw herself in there, Buchanan was approached by a convention official.

"Hi there. You an instructor?"

"I am."

"Great. Name please?"

"Gabrielle Buchanan."

The official, who had a tablet with her, was typing on it.

"Ah yes, I have you in the database. You're verified. Do you mind answering some questions?"

"Sure thing."

"How would you describe the demographics of your team?"

"Mostly white with some people of color. Overall, an accurate representation of the school's population."

"Good to hear. Next, has any of your students suffered any injuries as a result of their participation in tankery?"

"Nope. Not a single of my students has been hurt. I made sure every tank has a first-aid kit at the ready."

"That's excellent to hear. Thank you for your time."

The official left. Buchanan only had a moment to herself before one of the tankery instructors went up to her.

"Sorry, but, I couldn't help to overhear your conversation. Did you say you put med-kits in your team's vehicles?"

"Yeah. I made them myself with my own money."

"Amazing." the instructor said in a shocked tone.

"I can count the number of instructors who do that on one hand. I'm absolutely stunned that such a thing isn't mandated by the ATA."

"I know right!" Buchanan exclaimed.

"It's surprising, you know? This sport is innately dangerous. Too many people put way too much faith in the carbon protection."

"You have no idea how good it feels to meet someone who gets it."

"Likewise."

The instructor then withdrew a piece of paper from her pocket.

"I've been trying for years to get med-kits mandated by the rules but no dice. And now, this year, the rules committee is hearing a proposal about something regarding instructors? That's just random."

"It sure does seem random."

"Right? The Association fails to understand what really needs to be done."

"Yeah but it seems that no matter what anyone does, nothing seems to change. What can be done, if anything?" Buchanan said.

The instructor pondered for a moment, finger tapping against her chin.

"There is always something that could be done. I don't know what exactly it is. The solution could very well be unconventional, but I'll take it at this point."

Buchanan nodded in agreeance.

"Hey, I never got your name." she asked.

"Beth. And yours?"

"Gabrielle."

"Well Gabrielle, I want to keep talking about this and so much more. Coffee?"

"I could go for some coffee right about now."

* * *

The adults were going for some drinks while someone else is going for an entire meal. Ray, in a move that surprised absolutely no one, went immediately to the food court for a nice breakfast. It wasn't too hard to find with the smell of freshly baked goods become stronger as he drew near. The food court served a variety of items, much to his delight. He browsed the selection at his leisure and filled his tray. A few pieces of fried chicken fresh out of the fryer with buttermilk ranch sauce. A club sandwich cut into quarters. For his sides, potato salad, breadsticks, and coleslaw. Then there was the soft chocolate chip cookies that were, appropriately, shaped like a tank. His drink was a big cup of water. For health. With his tray full with his breakfast, he sat down at a table and began to eat. As he enjoyed his breakfast, he was totally oblivious to his surroundings. Oblivious to the fact that on the second level, overlooking the food court, was three girls. Watching him.

"That's him, right?" asked one of them.

"It is. The length of his hair matches the picture. Longer than average.

"A bit of a glutton, is he?" remarked another.

"Not a bit. He is."

"Let's head on down there and give him a 'proper welcome'."

The three walked toward the nearby staircase and was about to descend it when one of them stopped.

"Wait a second. Someone is walking up to him."

Below, heading towards Ray, was Natalie. She sat down across from him.

"I should be surprised but I'm not. It's you being you."

Ray playfully shrugged.

"How's the convention treating ya?" Ray said after taking a bite of his sandwich.

"It's pretty good. Loads of things to do. I'd ask the same question to you but I think I already know the answer."

"I think you do."

"You're not going to spend the entire convention at the food court, right?"

"Believe it or not, I do get full eventually. I've heard the Panther II is on display. I'm going to see it after I got done with my breakfast."

"I was thinking of doing the same thing. I'll…go with you."

"Ah…cool!"

"I just need to go to the bathroom real quick to wash my face."

Natalie walked off. On the second level, the trio of girls watched as she left.

"There's our chance. Let's go."

They descended the stairs and turned the corner toward the food court. Once there, they scanned all the tables. Something was missing. The table Ray was sat at was now empty. Getting closer, they saw an empty tray.

"The bastard can put down a meal, I'll give him that."

* * *

Ashley's search has yielded great fruit. There was indeed a lounge area. And it was better than she had expected for there were free refreshments and massage chairs. Sat at one with a lemonade in hand, she relaxed. A peek at the time told her that it was two o'clock. But you wouldn't know that by looking out the windows. The sky was in a complete overcast with the occasional rip of thunder. She was glad she was inside and more so that the massage chair was heated. With no obligations, today was purely dedicated to chilling. Her eyes were closed as the massage chair worked its magic on her body, its vibrations feeling damn good. She was so relaxed that she would have dozed off had someone not sat at the empty chair next to her.

"It looks like the convention is going great for you." Heather commented.

"MmmHmm." Ashley replied.

"I saw a booth that sold some stuff for loaders. I'm guessing you didn't visit it?"

"Nope."

"This is the first time you're hearing of it.

"Yup."

Heather grinned slightly.

"Thought so. It does have cool stuff though."

"I'll swing by later."

Heather looked at the controls of the chair and pressed some buttons. It vibrated nicely. She reclined into her seat and entered into a state of relaxation. The two girls enjoyed the chairs for a couple of minutes. Ashley kept her eyes open as she no longer wanted to nap. Naturally, her sight wandered. And eventually, caught something worth looking at.

"You know something Heather. I've just made an interesting observation."

"And what's that?"

"The uniforms of ATA officials look strikingly similar to ours."

* * *

At a more secluded area of the convention, one geared toward adults was a bar. Sat on stools were two adult women, sipping on their drinks. They were exhausted as they were walking all day. One of them ran their fingers through their hair as they took a deep breath.

"I didn't anticipate finding Mojave Rose would be so difficult. We've asked close to one hundred people and none could help us." Zoey complained.

"There are four thousand people at the minimum here. Maybe more. Our work was cut out for us from the onset. We'll find them." Sarah assured.

"Yeah. We will. Not finding out how they found our Jumbo will irritate me for the rest of our lives. Finding them at this convention could be our only chance."

"Mmm."

Sarah looked at her drink for a few moments.

"You know, being here has brought back loads of memories. You remember that match back in '87?"

Zoey inhaled sharply.

"In Alaska. Yes. I do. Every single detail. God, it was one hell of a match."

"It was close!" Sarah said dramatically.

"The sun was high in the sky yet the cold was not vanquished by its heat. The only thing keeping us warm was the blast of our guns that filled the air with vaporized gun powder. The snow that blanketed the land glistened brightly, enough that we were are wearing goggles to shield our eyes from the reflective snow. Both teams suffered similar casualties. One for one. Our position was on a large hill that overlooked a valley. The paint of our tanks contrasted greatly against the white snow so we tried to cover them up with the stuff. It was no use. We still stuck out like a sore thumb. The enemy spotted us from miles away. It was all of them, all that was left. They were charging us."

"It was terrifying. All those tanks heading right for us." Zoey added.

"Everyone was scared. Scared of being overrun. That was then the captain had a stroke of genius.

"The SU-14." Zoey interjected.

"At the captain's command, the artillery fired a shell on the hillside next to the approaching enemy. The resulting explosion triggered an avalanche that smothered the remaining tanks of the enemy team. The day was ours."

"That day was simply fantastic."

"That it was."

They clinked drinks and drank up. Zoey finished her glass and slammed it down.

"Hey, if we somehow don't find them, coming to the convention was worth it regardless."

* * *

It was the start of the evening and though one might assume that the convention would wind down for the day, the opposite in fact was happening. An influx of late arrivals kept the energy alive, along with events and activities to occupy one's time well into the night. The Tankery convention just doesn't cater to participants of the sports, though they are their main demographics, it also caters to fans of the sports and people who just love armored fighting vehicles. Consequently, to appeal to everyone, there was a seemingly endless amount of things to do. Valarie, who happened to fit all three of those demographics, attempted and quickly gave up trying to do everything thing in a day. The task was too daunting. Despite her desires, the convention will be enjoyed gradually over the week. With Emma, the two girls rested at soft chairs facing a large window. Outside, they saw a park that was right next to the convention, within the background, high rise buildings. The sky had darkened, much more that was usual for the hour. The storm had arrived and enveloped the city. The water was being splattered with an innumerable amount of water droplets. This was the type of weather that Emma adored and was more than happy to watch the rainfall. She was thinking. Not about many things. Just one. Valarie. She told herself before that she wanted to wait for the perfect moment to confess how she really felt about her. Now, being at a new place neither had been to before, she felt it in her soul that the moment was soon. Very soon. Looking out toward the park for a few moments and an idea formed.

"Hey Valarie, what are your plans for tomorrow?" she asked.

"There's this captain's event that seems pretty interesting.

"Oh? When is that?"

"Noon. It'll last a few hours."

Emma pondered for a moment.

"Well, I was thinking that instead of going to that event, you and I head down to that park and enjoy a nice walk."

Valarie seriously considered her suggestion. She tapped her fingers against the armrest of the chair.

"Um…I dunno…that thing is something Miss Buchanan wouldn't want me to miss out on…though…"

Valarie was looking at Emma and saw that she was giving her a look. Not just any look. The 'look'. It was something she used strategically to persuade people in her favor. To Valarie, Emma was unbelievably adorable when she does it. Irresistible. It worked. It always does.

"Thinking about it…Ray can go in my place. He'll love it. We'll go to the park. But there is this booth I want to go to first."

"Will that take long?"

"Nope. Ten minutes tops."

"Great! Just meet me at the park at noon."

"Cool! It's a d—"

Valarie stopped herself. Her true feelings nearly becoming known. Emma looked at her puzzled.

"It's what?" she questioned.

"Um…ah…it's going to be fun is what I meant to say." Valarie answered in a not so confident manner.

Emma eyed her suspiciously for a few seconds then returned her gaze to the window. She could feel Valarie turning red. She had an idea of what she truly meant to say but refrained from making assumptions. Though she was fairly positive she was right. They spent some time at the chairs when they then decided to call it a day and made their way back the hotel. When they arrived on the third floor and entered their room, Heather and Ashley were already there. They too had the same idea and were on the floor all nestled in their makeshift beds. Emma and Valarie quickly slipped into her sleepwear and settled in for the night. The light was shut off though the room wasn't totally quiet. The storm outside created an ambiance that they all enjoyed. Before she fully went to sleep, Emma heard the bed creak and saw the silhouette of Valarie. Silently, she beckoned her to join her on the bed. Without hesitation, she crawled into the bed with her. There was more than enough room for both of them. They whispered each other good night and closer their eyes. Yet they did not fall asleep. For Emma, she was thinking about the next day and she will do.

"I'm going to do it." she thought to herself.

"I'm going to confess to her how I feel about her."

She took a deep breath. She better stop thinking about tomorrow or she'll never fall asleep. For Valarie, her mind was active as well. Emma's plan for tomorrow was the opportunity she was waiting for. She didn't think it would happen during the convention for there were just too many things to do and see. But here it was. Maybe it was the work of some higher power, or perhaps it was the result of sheer luck. However it happened, she was overjoyed all the same. A chance for them to just have each other for their company. A chance to tell Emma just how much she means to her.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It happened.  
Finally.  
It happened.

_Tuesday, April 9th, 2013_

The morning was peaceful. Valarie had awoke at an hour where the hotel was not yet busy. It was nice and quiet. She rose from her bed and splashed water on her face in the bathroom. The reason Valarie was up early was because she was expecting a visitor. Soon, there was a soft knock at the door. She went to the door and opened it gently. Standing just outside was Ray. He was already fully dressed in his uniform, fresh from a shower and hair managed. All together all cleaned up. In contrast, Valarie's hair was more like a rat's nest, her clothes all wrinkly.

"Good morning. I got your text." Ray said

"You sure did, all dressed up and ready. That captain's thing is at noon." Valarie reminded.

"I got that, but, since I'm just a co-captain, would I even be allowed to participate?"

"Of course you can, It's a captain-focused event but it's not exclusively for captains. Think of it like you're my liaison."

Ray grinned and a chuckle escaped from his mouth.

"Ah, okay. Anyway, why can't you go again? You've never mentioned that."

"I have something important to do. Something that if it goes well will make me happier like nothing else. It's a golden opportunity that I just can't miss."

Ray was intrigued over Valarie's supposed opportunity. He narrowed his vision as he looked away from Valarie to the bed in the room. There, she saw Emma, awake, leisurely laying on the bed. She was browsing her phone, not at all aware of what was happening beyond the sheets. Looking at that scene for a few moments, it suddenly clicked. He now fully understood. A huge smile appeared on his face.

"Oh. I see." he said softly.

He started to walk away but turned once more to face Valarie.

"I'd say I hope Cupid has good aim today, but, I feel like the guy already let loose his arrows long ago."

Valarie's face was flooded with a blush as Ray now turned away, satisfied, to the convention. She turned around and returned to the room. Now, everyone was awake and in the process of getting ready. Save for Emma who continued to relax on the bed. As Valarie looked, she was surprised to see Heather and Ashley getting ready quickly.

"What's up guys? What's the rush?" Valarie inquired.

"There's this virtual reality game at the convention. Me and Heather are heading over to beat the lines. See you later!" Ashley explained

The two girls finished getting dressed and shot out of the room, leaving Emma and Valarie alone. The two then got ready themselves. After getting her hair in order, Valarie was set to leave though Emma was taking her sweet time brushing her hair.

"I'm off to those booths. Noon at the park, yeah?" Valarie asked.

"Noon. I will be waiting for you." Emma confirmed.

"See you then."

Valarie left the room and now Emma was alone. Perfect. She stopped brushing her hair and took out a paper and a pencil from her bag. Sat down at a desk, she began to write down her words for later. Like Hell she'll remember them come the big moment. Some minutes of putting her emotion to paper later, and she was done. She reviewed it briefly before neatly folding it up and tucked away in her pocket. She rummaged through her bags again and retrieved her bottle of pale blue nail polish. Packed for this exact moment.

"This will be a day to remember."

* * *

As the captain's event wasn't until noon, Ray had some time to kill. He has already swung by the food court and enjoyed what they had to offer so now he didn't know what exactly to do till the event. So, he wandered the convention hall, periodically looking at his phone to be aware of the time. He walked past various booths either trying to sell something or trying to teach him something, Then there were the displays. He had already seen the Panther II with Natalie and visited the E-10 wooden mock-up. That made him feel weird. A tank shorter than him? What an oddity. Soon though, he grew bored of walking around and sat down at the first empty table he found. He tapped his fingers on it as he thought about what else he could do to pass the time. His isolation at the table was short-lived as he soon felt a presence behind him. Turning around, there was a girl. Not from the team but he figured that the girl was around the age of a freshman. She was smiling and taking a good look at his uniform.

"Hi! Nice cosplay." the girl complimented.

"Huh? Cosplay?" Ray asked, confused.

"Yeah, you look like you're in tankery. So cool!"

Ray let out an astounded laugh.

"Oh my God! This is the real deal!" he exclaimed, tugging on his uniform.

"I am in tankery! I'm on my school's team!"

The girl became embarrassed.

"Oh…uh…I'm sorry! I didn't think guys actually did the sport."

"Yeah, well, this guy does along with three other dudes."

"An all-male tankery crew? Wow."

"Shattering those glass ceilings, eh?"

The girl chuckled as she saw down across from him.

"So, what's your tank?" she questioned

"Soviet heavy tank IS-3. My friends and I got it working over the past summer. It was the first tank added to our team."

He took out his phone and shared with her the photos of his tank along with the rest of the crew. In addition to that, she was shown photos of the rest of the Mojave Rose tankery team. The girl was greatly impressed and enthralled.

"What's that?"

"A SU-100."

"And that?"

"A Stuart."

"And…what's that?"

"A T-44."

"Very. Very Cool."

Ray put away his phone.

"I bet you've already been in matches, huh?" she asked.

"I have. Our team is in the tournament and already are we in the semi-finals."

"Is it fun?"

"Hell yeah it is. But it is also stressful, very stressful."

"I would think so. It's the only sport where people shoot each other."

"Well, there's paintball…but it's not really the same. Paintball doesn't have that element of danger that makes the sport absolutely thrilling. No sport can even hold a candle to the experiences tankery can provide. I heard the bullets whistle—and believe me, there is something charming in that sound. George Washington said that in a letter to a friend. I never understood it before. I understand it now."

The girl was utterly captivated. Hanging on to each word he says. She had one more question to ask him.

"What advice do you have for people who want to join tankery?"

Ray thought for a moment, eyes closed and hands clasped together.

"Two things. One, learn how to maintain vehicles yourselves. Being your own mechanic is a superb idea. You'll definitely save money that way too. Two, if you can help it, avoid tanks with two-part ammunition. Your reload rate will appreciate that."

Ray stood up from the table.

"This was a fun chat but I got a little event to attend to."

"Hey, before you go. What's your school?"

"Mojave Rose High School from Barstow, California."

"Thanks! I'll be watching you guys in your matches. Good luck!"

With a smile, Ray waved goodbye and walked toward the captain's event. The girl remained at the table, happy on meeting a genuine tankery participant. Her attention shifted to the nearby booths, her mind in action over what to do next. It was then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Going to the bathroom, huh?"

The girl jumped from her seat.

"Ah…mom! I was going, honest, but I met someone along the way."

"Oh yeah? Whose that?"

"A tankery athlete. He gave me some beginner's advice."

"…he?" her mother questioned

"Yes, 'he'."

Her mother eyed her up.

"Boys in tankery huh? Interesting. I never thought I'd see the day…wow."

"I know right? I've been wondering, mom, is there anything stopping more guys from joining tankery? That guy I met is the only male participant I know of."

"Technically nothing. It's just everything else."

"Huh?"

"It all boils down to damn tradition. When the sport was getting formed, it was back during a time where equality between men and women was not ideal. Still isn't today but, it's better. It made so much sense at the time, an opportunity for women to feel empowered where they would otherwise not get the chance. Male interest in the sport has existed as long as the sport has. But back then, every single tankery team had a rule where only women could be in the team. Men had loads of other sports, they'd say."

"Isn't that illegal or something? To only allow certain people in sports?" her daughter questioned.

"It is now thanks to Title IX, but back then it was a-okay. Ever since Title IX got enacted, boys could, on a technical ground, participate in tankery. But it was those girls so obsessed with tradition that fought against their inclusion, even if they had a legal right to do so. If you were a guy and said you were just _considering _joining a tankery team, the girls would do whatever they could do stop that. For some…it got real bad."

Her mother rubbed her forehead as some bad memories resurfaced.

"I never told you very much of my own in tankery."

"You told me very little. How you started and some matches but—"

"Never how it ended." her mother finished.

She inhaled deeply, sniffling as she was trying to stifle tears.

"The worst year of my life was 1990. In between high school and enlisting in the Air Force, I was on a tankery team with the goal of going pro. It didn't happen, obviously. There was this…event….that damaged the popularity of tankery in Southern California. Teams all around were going defunct one-by-one. For my team, some members left but we were in decent shape that if we just could get replacements, we could survive. Some guys showed interest and were eager to join. But the other girls didn't like that idea at all. They hated it, actually. So, everyone left, effectively disbanding the team. They were so against having guys as teammates that they gave up a chance of going pro. I still can't believe it, twenty-three years later."

She was staring at the table for some long moments, so long that her daughter snapped her fingers by her face.

"Mom?"

"Oh…sorry. I was just reliving that moment. It was…awful."

Her mother stood up from the table.

"Though, from what you have told me, things are getting way better. That guy you met must have a supportive team. I'm happy for him. It makes me feel way better…vindicated in a way."

Her daughter, whose face was devoid of all expression due to listening to her story, now was sporting a beaming smile. A smile that was infectious as she was smiling as well.

"Thanks for telling me that mom. Now…uh…I gotta head to the bathroom now. I've been…holding…it in…it hurts…berightback."

She bolted off toward the nearest bathroom. Her mother reclined against a wall to wait for her daughter's return. She resumed thinking about her past, all the good and the bad when she was then approached by a convention official.

"Excuse me, but, do you mind if scan the barcode of your admission pass?"

"…sure?"

The official with her tablet aimed its camera at the barcode and scanned the code. On the screen popped up an information box.

"MmmHmm. MacKenzie Hayes. I hope the convention is treating you well."

"It's fun. For me and my daughter. I gotta ask, why the scan?"

"You're an older woman so chances are you are a former tanker. The Association finds it imperative to gather the feedback of former tankers and compare them to the ones of today."

"Ah, I get it."

The official browsed her tablet for a moment more.

"So, what relation have with the person who invited you?"

"Uhhh…come again?"

"The person who invited you. A Martin Redwood."

"I don't know anyone with that name."

"Oh…really?"

The two women were confused.

"Huh…strange to be invited by someone you don't know." remarked the official.

"And a bit unnerving too." added Hayes.

"Well, there's nothing against the rules over who people can invite, but it's odd all the same. Take care."

The official departed, leaving a curious Hayes. This Martin Redwood person won't ever leave her mind until she gets to the bottom of this. She'll learn why she is even here in the first place.

* * *

With a minute to spare, Ray had arrived at the captain's event. Just outside its door was a group of people. All girls. That made him anxious even though he fully expected this. His walk slowed as he approached them. He was taller than all of them, as if he needed any more attention. The feeling he was experiencing was one he felt before. When he walked through the women's sections in clothing stores. Obviously he didn't walk in those sections to gawk. His mom was there so of course he would have to go there. Even if the women in those areas who saw him understood, it still made him uncomfortable. Now, here he was among team captains of a sport heavily marketed toward women. It was more than a 'fish-out-of-water' feeling. It was more like the fish being flung a thousand miles inland. He stood outside the group, against a wall, waiting. No one noticed his presence at first, as they were chatting with each other. One did happen to look in his direction and was briefly bewildered. Her face returned to normal and looked away. She had quickly accepted the fact that he as here and it seemed like everyone else would too. The doors opened and the group walked in. Ray followed right behind, welcomed by the officials who had welcomed everyone else. When the doors closed, the outside area wasn't vacant. A trio of girls has been watching him for a while now. They were tracking Ray down ever since they've lost him the day before. At tables, they sat. Now waiting.

"When he leaves that event…we'll 'introduce' ourselves."

* * *

Valarie browsed the booths to see what they were selling, What piqued her interest were tank model kits. She looked through a selection but was disappointed that she did not find a T-44 kit. Some more perusing and she did find something that caught her eye. A Panzer IV model kit. With mark H specifications. She looked at the box for several seconds. Her eyes went from the tracks to the hull, to the end of the barrel. It was funny, she thought, that this tank has repeatedly popped in her life over the past few months. She wonders if it will ever stop being funny. After some more time looking at the kit, she decided against buying it. Considering the events of the past few months, she wasn't really keen on spending money. She walked off and checked her phone. It was five minutes to noon, five minutes until her and Emma meet at the nearby. Her heartbeat quickened. She must already be waiting for her. With an ever-increasing eagerness, Valarie left the convention. The weather outside hasn't changed, the storm has yet to pass. There was a break in the rain though. A cold breeze came through which cause Valarie to zip up her jacket, which she only realized now that it isn't warm enough for the current weather. No matter. Soon, very soon, she'll be warmer than the sun. Being in the middle of Houston, the ambiance was loud but that wasn't something she found irritating. The park, when she arrived, was scarcely populated on the account of the rain. This played to her advantage as Emma wasn't difficult to find at all. Sat at a bench. When she saw her, Emma gave her an endearing and genuine smile which she was more than happy to return in kind. When they met, the girls hugged like they haven't seen each other in years.

"Hi. Shopping good?" Emma asked.

"Ah, there wasn't anything good." Valarie answered.

"Yeah, that happens sometimes. Ha…ha."

A brief awkward silence ensued.

"So…what do you want to do? Valarie questioned

"Let's just have a walk."

"I'd like that."

The two began their stroll at a leisurely pace. No need to rush into things. The walkway they were on was flanked by trees on each side. Their leaves danced as gusts of wind blew them. The rustling sound they made producing a gentle sound. The birds, in defiance of the storm, sang their tunes. A tune seemingly made for the girls walking below. They looked at their surroundings but were mostly looking at each other. When their eyes matched, they quickly looked away. There was this electricity in the air. But it wasn't from the lightning. It was between two people. Emma Gray and Valarie Woodlin. And it was soon to make a long-awaited connection. Emma was nervous. Incredibly so. The words were in her mind but hesitated to be vocalized. She internally chastised herself over how cowardly she was. She fantasized for so long about this moment and now when there is a chance to make her fantasies come to life, but now she hesitates?

No.

She can't miss this.

She won't miss this.

"Valarie." Emma uttered.

She turned toward her.

"There is something I've been meaning to say…man…years now."

They both stopped walking. Both of their hair were faintly playing in the wind.

"Emma, I, uh, also got something to say to you." Valarie announced.

"But you go first."

Emma breathed in deeply and withdrew the piece of paper from her pocket, unfolding it. It was then Valarie noticed her painted nails. A meaning that she knew all too well. Emma was silently reading the paper. Her breathing increased and got deeper as her nervousness skyrocketed. She went back and forth looking at the paper and at Valarie. Her hands were shaking. They desired to be held. The heat of the moment got to her. She set down the paper.

"Actually…y-you go first." Emma suggested.

Valarie's fingers were fidgeting.

"Um…I don't have a letter like you so…you go."

A stand-off.

"I…ugh. I'm…just so nervous." Emma said.

"Well, you're in good company." Valarie said with a soft laugh.

They both thought of what to do. Emma then had the solution.

"At…at the same time, okay? We say what we want to say at the same time." she explained.

Valarie nodded. She counted down.

"On three."

Unknowingly, the two have stepped closer to together. Their cheeks steadily becoming a rosy red. Both of their breathing has now slowed as their eyes locked on to each other. Just one emotion existed in them both. An emotion that they held within themselves for years. Like an agitated soda can, they were about to burst. Years of waiting all to end in the next few seconds.

"One…two…three!"

"I love you!" they both confessed in perfect unison.

On each of their faces were an shocked expression. In truth, both of them knew that this was going to happen, the signs were all there. But hearing those words being exchanged elicited feelings that none of them could ever have imagined. The shock on their faces had given way to overwhelming elation, their smiles grand.

"You…you mean that right? This isn't some cruel prank?" Emma asked

"I mean it one hundred percent. I love you, Emma. I've always had."

"Oh my God…it's happening…it's finally happening!"

Valarie moved closer to Emma to the point where the girls were just inches apart. She grabbed both of her hands and held them gently, bringing them closer to their faces. The world, to them, was just each other.

"Valarie, I've known you for nearly a decade of my life. Each moment I've spent with you is filled with joy. I can't imagine being with anyone else. Every time I think of you, I smile. Every time I'm with you, I'm so happy. For the rest of my life, I want to be with you and you with me. I'd do anything for your happiness."

A solitary tear emerged from Valarie's eye.

"That was your letter, wasn't it?" she asked.

"It was. Despite it all, I remembered it word for word."

"They were lovely words. Lovely as you."

Emma blushed brilliantly. Valarie learned forward and they rubbed noses.

"You said you'd do anything for my happiness and I believe that with all my heart. When I was homeless, you helped me. You took me in and comforted me. You did all that without a second thought or expecting money. The only thing you wanted was my happiness."

Now it was Emma who was tearing up, though Valarie was sure that some of the water on her face was actually from the rain. The weather had gotten colder but they were anything but. Valarie had moved her hands. One on Emma's lower back and another just on the rear of her neck. What was about to transpire was going to make them nice and warm. The sky above them rumbled, thunder cracked, and a flash of lightning manifested in the distance. The rain began to come down more intensely. Their faces were drawn closer together as if they were magnetized. So close were they only mere inches separated their lips. Their noses once again touched and rubbed. They were just teasing each other at this point and they loved and savored every moment of it. Though the best moment was yet to come. Emma had now mimicked the hand placements of Valarie. All the pieces were in their positions. Simultaneously, they each brought their lips to meet. Finally, at long last, they kissed. The emotion shared between them was pure bliss, far exceeding their wildest dreams. It was intoxicating, in the best way possible. The kiss between them lasted several long, heavenly seconds. When it ceased, their eyes opened and were once again looking at each other. They laughed.

"You're soaked." Valarie noted.

"So are you."

The rain had intensified during their moment of passion. Their clothes were absolutely drenched, as was their hair. Looking up, they saw more bolts of lighting silently flashing across the sky. It was the type of weather that would ruin people's day. Not for them. As for them, it was the total opposite. This day was greatly enhanced because of it. They wouldn't forget this day for the rest of their lives.

"I was your crush, wasn't I?" Emma asked.

"Of course you were."

Emma smiled with satisfaction.

"Let's go back to the hotel and change into dry clothes."

"Sure. But…we aren't in any rush are we?" Valarie asked.

"No. No we are not."

Their arms interlocked and hands were held as the young couple walked back to their hotel room. They were bubbly, overjoyed at the fact that they were now together at last. Neither knew what the future held for them, but, they were fully prepared to write it together.

* * *

In the upper level of the convention, a girl sat alone at a table. She was waiting. Patient at first though over time, she grew more frustrated. Her fingers tapped methodically against the top of the table. From her peripheral view, she saw a pair of girls ascending a flight of nearby stairs and making their way toward her.

"Where the Hell were you guys? Is ten minutes not ten minutes anymore?" the waiting girl complained.

"Sorry Caroline. We got held up. But it's relevant."

"Explain."

"We met more with the students of the school you assigned us to observe. We understand them a lot better now."

"Great! Lay it on me."

"Well, Mojave Rose is exactly what we thought it was. Your run-of-the-mill public school. Nothing really to be concerned with."

"That's…that's it?!" Caroline exclaimed

"That's all you learned?"

The girls were annoyed.

"What the Hell do you want us to say, Caroline? That they have God on their side? That the Force is strong with them? They're normal."

Caroline rubbed her face and took a breath.

"Alright…alright. I'm sorry. You both did well. You can go now."

They left. Caroline remained at the table to think. She never told Penelope that she had some fear regarding Mojave Rose. A school that hasn't had a tankery team in over two decades only just recently revived it and now are in the semi-finals? That made her somewhat fearful of them. If Penelope, or anyone else for that matter, discovered that fear, they all would relentlessly tease her about it. But now, the fear was gone. She now fully understood that Mojave Rose was a normal school. A public school. No way did they have the same resources that Molly Pitcher has. If the two schools happened to have a match together, Caroline pondered, Mojave Rose won't stand a chance. But it will be fun, undoubtedly. All content, she reclined in her seat and relaxed. She enjoyed herself for a few minutes before the sound of approaching footsteps captured her attention.

"Hey. You seen a tall Hispanic guy around here" the stranger asked.

"Nope. Sorry. Really am." Caroline answered.

Disappointed, the girl left and descended back down the stairs. Her head turned in all directions. She saw a familiar face but it was not the person she was seeking.

"Jane!" she called to her.

Jane turned her direction walked over.

"What's up, Natalie?"

"Have you seen Ray?"

"No. Have you checked the food court?"

"That was the first place I checked but he wasn't there. I don't know where else to look."

Jane put one a thinking expression.

"Um…oh! He went to that captain's event."

"Him? Not Valarie?"

"She had something important to do so Ray went in her place. That's just what I heard though."

"Okay, but surely that event is over by now?"

Jane shrugged.

"I guess. He could be in his hotel room. Maybe he turned in early after the event? If not, you could just wait for him there."

Natalie nodded.

"I'll swing by there to see. Thanks."

She went off. Across the convention hall, she walked, ignoring everything else. Well, not everything. All the people she was walking past, it was impossible to not hear their conversations. Nearly all of which were not interesting in the slightest. Except when she heard something that stopped her dead in her tracks.

"…almost made him cry."

It was an obvious fact to everyone that at the convention that male attendance was out-shadowed by the fairer sex. So, it was a good possibility that this 'him' they were talking about was Ray. Natalie leaned against a wall in a way that looks like she was resting and started to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"He had the gall to be at that captain's event. If anything we were too lenient on him." one remarked.

"The bastard came real close to crying right in front of us. It would've been great if he did to complete his humiliation." added another.

"He probably thinks he can avoid us. He won't. We'll find and harass. If we're good, maybe he and his friends will quit the sport before the convention is up."

One smiled in a demented sort of way.

"He will be made to understand that he or any other guy has no damn place in tankery."

At this moment, Natalie felt that she could no longer be a bystander. She turned around and marched right up toward them.

"I once thought as you did. Thinking that boys have no place in the sport as I thought they only joined to pick-up dates. But I was wrong. So wrong. And so are all of you."

The small group of girls stared daggers at her. Natalie was unphased. One of them approached her, face a scowl.

"Don't you care about tankery?" she demanded

"I do. That's why I think the more people who join the better."

The girl let out a mocking laugh.

"God, you're a stupid one. Boys don't belong in the sport at all. They can fuck right off."

"The boys on my team belong. They are dedicated to the sport as much as you and me. The sooner you can accept that, the better you will feel. I know that first hand."

The girl just eyed her for several moments, eyes squinted.

"You have boys on your team? Are you from…Mojave Rose?" she asked.

Natalie answered with a nod.

"You're the school we're facing off against later this month."

"Yeah. A nice friendly match in Montana." Natalie said sarcastically

Another of the girls joined the conversation.

"I remember her from the picture of the article! She's the commander of their Jagdpanzer IV."

The girl closest to Natalie looked back at her.

"In our little match, we are going to find you and fuck you up. Right after we destroy that IS-3, and I mean _destroy. _That is if that male crew is still around anyway."

Natalie got up all in her face, arms at her hips.

"Why wait bitch? Let's settle things right here, right now."

They stared at each other for several tense moments. Their arms twitching in anticipation. Though the time they have known each other was less than five minutes, they already hated the other's very existence. The people around them began to take notice. Slowly, a crowd began to form. The crowd being entirely composed of high school students, they were hoping to catch a possible fight kick-off. Then, a member of the girl's group walked up to her.

"Cassandra, the captain wants us to meet with her for something. We gotta go."

Natalie put on a smug smile.

"Good tankers follow orders, Cassandra."

Cassandra looked at her with fury.

"Shut the fuck up. This isn't over."

The group made a hasty exit and the crowd dispersed. Natalie felt as she had won the first round, though, how many rounds are they left? Regardless, she now left the convention and back to the hotel. It was still raining but that was not at all her concern. At the hotel, she saw that there was a line at the elevator. Impatient, she went for the stairwell and climbed them to the fourth floor. Legs aching, she walked the floor reading the door numbers.

"D13…D15…ah, here it is, D17."

She stopped and knocked on the door. No response. Another knock, this one harder.

"Ray? You there? Anyone? Hello?"

Natalie rested her head against the door. She could hear the faint sound of someone getting up from a bed and walking slowly toward the door. The locks were disengaged and the door opened just enough for Ray's head to peak out.

"Oh. It's you."

There was a redness around his eye and when he spoke, Natalie noted that his voice was somewhat nasally. He looked rough and exhausted.

"Are you okay?" Natalie asked.

"I'm fine."

"You're no good at lying, Ray."

He sighed.

"No. I'm not okay."

"What happened?"

"It's a whole thing. Not enough for anyone to care."

"Well, I care. Care enough to walk all the way to your room."

Ray glanced down. Then he beckoned Natalie to enter his room. He then plopped onto the bed.

"What happened, Ray?" Natalie asked again.

"After the captain's event, a group of girls surrounded me and harassed me. They told me that I was ruining the sport and needed to get lost. I refused. They called me a bastard. An asshole. A mother fucker. And I could just ignore that really but when one of them called me a pervert, that was too much."

"That's awful Ray. Genuinely awful."

"I tried to walk away but they followed me around the convention. Hurled every insult they could've created. I managed to lose them and hid in the men's restroom. I was in the stall for like an hour, not even kidding. I left the bathroom and headed straight to my room. I was scared that they followed me here and when you knocked, I honestly thought it was them."

The more Ray explained what has happened, the more angry Natalie became.

"Did they make you cry?"

"Eventually they did. Though, I made sure they didn't see it. I held it in until I made it back to my room. I'm not giving them that satisfaction."

Natalie was stunned. She looked toward Ray who was staring up at the ceiling, his breathing interrupted with him sniffling.

"But the worst thing about it all…" Ray continued.

"…was that no one helped me. It's not like the girls caught me in some back alley. People were nearby. They saw what was happening. It made them uncomfortable, I could see it on their faces. But none of them did a damn thing. I was alone."

Ray tried to hold it in but still cried. Natalie reached for a tissue and handed it to him. He dabbed his eyes and cleared his nose and soon began to calm back down.

"Um…this may or may not be the right time to say but those girls are part of the team we're going against in Montana."

Ray looked at her and back at the ceiling.

"I see…"

He got up from the bed.

"They think they can bully me off the team but they won't. They can beat me with bats and pipes and I will still be in this sport. We're going to knock them the fuck out from the tournament."

Natalie smiled, the biggest one Ray had ever seen on her. She walked up closer to him and hugged him.

"You belong. Your friends belong. No one can say otherwise." she whispered into her ear.

They hugged for what seemed like forever. Natalie was enjoying this moment when she suddenly backed off.

"Um…uh…don't say to anyone I did that, okay?"

"Sure thing. I'll just say we cuddled instead."

"Don't you dare give people the wrong idea, Ray!"

"Take it easy Natalie, I won't say a word. Other than thanks."

With that, Natalie left. She didn't like the joke he made but she did like seeing that Ray was already returning to his joking-self.

* * *

"I'm not playing virtual reality games again. My eyes hurt and I only played for a few minutes." Heather complained

"Guess VR is nor for you. I still had fun at least." Ashley said

Heather rubbed her eyes and blinked them repeatedly

"Feeling a bit better now."

"When we get back to the room, I got some eye droplets."

The elevator dinged and they stepped off. They walked down the hallway to their hotel room. The moment they unlocked the door and stepped inside, they halted.

"Oh my." Heather whispered.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Ashley said as loudly as she can.

They had walked in on Valarie and Emma, kissing and cuddling on the bed. Everyone was just looking at each other for a few moments in silence. An awkward silence that only Ashley seemed to be enjoying.

"Um." Valarie uttered.

"Yeah…we're dating now." Emma announced.

"It's about time!" Ashley exclaimed.

"What do you mean 'about time'?" Valarie inquired.

"I'm not blind, Val. I saw this happening a mile away. I'm so happy for you both."

Valarie and Emma blushed and held hands.

"So. Who confessed first." Heather questioned, near demanded.

Emma and Valarie exchanged glances.

"Um, well, we both said 'I love you' and kissed at the same time. So no one really went first." Emma explained

Astounded, Heather and Ashley faced each other.

"What do we do now? Who wins?" Ashley asked.

"I…don't know. I don't think there is a winner." Heather mused.

"So we both lose? Really?"

"What are you guys talking about? Winning? Losing?" Valarie asked, totally confused.

"We…uh…bet on which one of you would confess your love first." Ashley admitted.

"But since you both confessed at the same time, that messes with our bet a little." Heather said.

"Ah sorry. Not too sorry though." Emma remarked.

Heather and Ashley paced around the room to think of some sort of solution to the conundrum facing them. Heather then smiled.

"I got it."

She withdrew a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet.

"Let's just exchange the bills."

Ashley looked at the bill in Heather's hand and nodded.

"A fair compromise, I guess"

They swapped the cash.

"That was fun, but the next bet we place a bit, there will be definite winners and losers." Ashley said.

"I'm looking forward to taking all your money." Heather responded.

The day wasn't fully over but the four girls decided to turn in early today. For Heather and Ashley, their day was spent playing that VR game which wore them out and strained their eyes. For Emma and Valarie, their relationship has blossomed into one that was more romantic. They could now call each other girlfriends. Already were they brainstorming where to go for their first and proper date. They slept together on the bed and cuddled into the night, an act that was absolutely blissful. It was good that the girls went to bed early as they'll need all their energy for tomorrow. The air will be thick with engine gas fumes. Tires will screech and reaction time will be tested. A Panther II was up for grabs and the Mojave Rose team was ready for the checkered flag to drop.

_Tuesday, April 9th, 2013_

The morning was peaceful. Valarie had awoke at an hour where the hotel was not yet busy. It was nice and quiet. She rose from her bed and splashed water on her face in the bathroom. The reason Valarie was up early was because she was expecting a visitor. Soon, there was a soft knock at the door. She went to the door and opened it gently. Standing just outside was Ray. He was already fully dressed in his uniform, fresh from a shower and hair managed. All together all cleaned up. In contrast, Valarie's hair was more like a rat's nest, her clothes all wrinkly.

"Good morning. I got your text." Ray said

"You sure did, all dressed up and ready. That captain's thing is at noon." Valarie reminded.

"I got that, but, since I'm just a co-captain, would I even be allowed to participate?"

"Of course you can, It's a captain-focused event but it's not exclusively for captains. Think of it like you're my liaison."

Ray grinned and a chuckle escaped from his mouth.

"Ah, okay. Anyway, why can't you go again? You've never mentioned that."

"I have something important to do. Something that if it goes well will make me happier like nothing else. It's a golden opportunity that I just can't miss."

Ray was intrigued over Valarie's supposed opportunity. He narrowed his vision as he looked away from Valarie to the bed in the room. There, she saw Emma, awake, leisurely laying on the bed. She was browsing her phone, not at all aware of what was happening beyond the sheets. Looking at that scene for a few moments, it suddenly clicked. He now fully understood. A huge smile appeared on his face.

"Oh. I see." he said softly.

He started to walk away but turned once more to face Valarie.

"I'd say I hope Cupid has good aim today, but, I feel like the guy already let loose his arrows long ago."

Valarie's face was flooded with a blush as Ray now turned away, satisfied, to the convention. She turned around and returned to the room. Now, everyone was awake and in the process of getting ready. Save for Emma who continued to relax on the bed. As Valarie looked, she was surprised to see Heather and Ashley getting ready quickly.

"What's up guys? What's the rush?" Valarie inquired.

"There's this virtual reality game at the convention. Me and Heather are heading over to beat the lines. See you later!" Ashley explained

The two girls finished getting dressed and shot out of the room, leaving Emma and Valarie alone. The two then got ready themselves. After getting her hair in order, Valarie was set to leave though Emma was taking her sweet time brushing her hair.

"I'm off to those booths. Noon at the park, yeah?" Valarie asked.

"Noon. I will be waiting for you." Emma confirmed.

"See you then."

Valarie left the room and now Emma was alone. Perfect. She stopped brushing her hair and took out a paper and a pencil from her bag. Sat down at a desk, she began to write down her words for later. Like Hell she'll remember them come the big moment. Some minutes of putting her emotion to paper later, and she was done. She reviewed it briefly before neatly folding it up and tucked away in her pocket. She rummaged through her bags again and retrieved her bottle of pale blue nail polish. Packed for this exact moment.

"This will be a day to remember."

* * *

As the captain's event wasn't until noon, Ray had some time to kill. He has already swung by the food court and enjoyed what they had to offer so now he didn't know what exactly to do till the event. So, he wandered the convention hall, periodically looking at his phone to be aware of the time. He walked past various booths either trying to sell something or trying to teach him something, Then there were the displays. He had already seen the Panther II with Natalie and visited the E-10 wooden mock-up. That made him feel weird. A tank shorter than him? What an oddity. Soon though, he grew bored of walking around and sat down at the first empty table he found. He tapped his fingers on it as he thought about what else he could do to pass the time. His isolation at the table was short-lived as he soon felt a presence behind him. Turning around, there was a girl. Not from the team but he figured that the girl was around the age of a freshman. She was smiling and taking a good look at his uniform.

"Hi! Nice cosplay." the girl complimented.

"Huh? Cosplay?" Ray asked, confused.

"Yeah, you look like you're in tankery. So cool!"

Ray let out an astounded laugh.

"Oh my God! This is the real deal!" he exclaimed, tugging on his uniform.

"I am in tankery! I'm on my school's team!"

The girl became embarrassed.

"Oh…uh…I'm sorry! I didn't think guys actually did the sport."

"Yeah, well, this guy does along with three other dudes."

"An all-male tankery crew? Wow."

"Shattering those glass ceilings, eh?"

The girl chuckled as she saw down across from him.

"So, what's your tank?" she questioned

"Soviet heavy tank IS-3. My friends and I got it working over the past summer. It was the first tank added to our team."

He took out his phone and shared with her the photos of his tank along with the rest of the crew. In addition to that, she was shown photos of the rest of the Mojave Rose tankery team. The girl was greatly impressed and enthralled.

"What's that?"

"A SU-100."

"And that?"

"A Stuart."

"And…what's that?"

"A T-44."

"Very. Very Cool."

Ray put away his phone.

"I bet you've already been in matches, huh?" she asked.

"I have. Our team is in the tournament and already are we in the semi-finals."

"Is it fun?"

"Hell yeah it is. But it is also stressful, very stressful."

"I would think so. It's the only sport where people shoot each other."

"Well, there's paintball…but it's not really the same. Paintball doesn't have that element of danger that makes the sport absolutely thrilling. No sport can even hold a candle to the experiences tankery can provide. I heard the bullets whistle—and believe me, there is something charming in that sound. George Washington said that in a letter to a friend. I never understood it before. I understand it now."

The girl was utterly captivated. Hanging on to each word he says. She had one more question to ask him.

"What advice do you have for people who want to join tankery?"

Ray thought for a moment, eyes closed and hands clasped together.

"Two things. One, learn how to maintain vehicles yourselves. Being your own mechanic is a superb idea. You'll definitely save money that way too. Two, if you can help it, avoid tanks with two-part ammunition. Your reload rate will appreciate that."

Ray stood up from the table.

"This was a fun chat but I got a little event to attend to."

"Hey, before you go. What's your school?"

"Mojave Rose High School from Barstow, California."

"Thanks! I'll be watching you guys in your matches. Good luck!"

With a smile, Ray waved goodbye and walked toward the captain's event. The girl remained at the table, happy on meeting a genuine tankery participant. Her attention shifted to the nearby booths, her mind in action over what to do next. It was then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Going to the bathroom, huh?"

The girl jumped from her seat.

"Ah…mom! I was going, honest, but I met someone along the way."

"Oh yeah? Whose that?"

"A tankery athlete. He gave me some beginner's advice."

"…he?" her mother questioned

"Yes, 'he'."

Her mother eyed her up.

"Boys in tankery huh? Interesting. I never thought I'd see the day…wow."

"I know right? I've been wondering, mom, is there anything stopping more guys from joining tankery? That guy I met is the only male participant I know of."

"Technically nothing. It's just everything else."

"Huh?"

"It all boils down to damn tradition. When the sport was getting formed, it was back during a time where equality between men and women was not ideal. Still isn't today but, it's better. It made so much sense at the time, an opportunity for women to feel empowered where they would otherwise not get the chance. Male interest in the sport has existed as long as the sport has. But back then, every single tankery team had a rule where only women could be in the team. Men had loads of other sports, they'd say."

"Isn't that illegal or something? To only allow certain people in sports?" her daughter questioned.

"It is now thanks to Title IX, but back then it was a-okay. Ever since Title IX got enacted, boys could, on a technical ground, participate in tankery. But it was those girls so obsessed with tradition that fought against their inclusion, even if they had a legal right to do so. If you were a guy and said you were just _considering _joining a tankery team, the girls would do whatever they could do stop that. For some…it got real bad."

Her mother rubbed her forehead as some bad memories resurfaced.

"I never told you very much of my own in tankery."

"You told me very little. How you started and some matches but—"

"Never how it ended." her mother finished.

She inhaled deeply, sniffling as she was trying to stifle tears.

"The worst year of my life was 1990. In between high school and enlisting in the Air Force, I was on a tankery team with the goal of going pro. It didn't happen, obviously. There was this…event….that damaged the popularity of tankery in Southern California. Teams all around were going defunct one-by-one. For my team, some members left but we were in decent shape that if we just could get replacements, we could survive. Some guys showed interest and were eager to join. But the other girls didn't like that idea at all. They hated it, actually. So, everyone left, effectively disbanding the team. They were so against having guys as teammates that they gave up a chance of going pro. I still can't believe it, twenty-three years later."

She was staring at the table for some long moments, so long that her daughter snapped her fingers by her face.

"Mom?"

"Oh…sorry. I was just reliving that moment. It was…awful."

Her mother stood up from the table.

"Though, from what you have told me, things are getting way better. That guy you met must have a supportive team. I'm happy for him. It makes me feel way better…vindicated in a way."

Her daughter, whose face was devoid of all expression due to listening to her story, now was sporting a beaming smile. A smile that was infectious as she was smiling as well.

"Thanks for telling me that mom. Now…uh…I gotta head to the bathroom now. I've been…holding…it in…it hurts…berightback."

She bolted off toward the nearest bathroom. Her mother reclined against a wall to wait for her daughter's return. She resumed thinking about her past, all the good and the bad when she was then approached by a convention official.

"Excuse me, but, do you mind if scan the barcode of your admission pass?"

"…sure?"

The official with her tablet aimed its camera at the barcode and scanned the code. On the screen popped up an information box.

"MmmHmm. MacKenzie Hayes. I hope the convention is treating you well."

"It's fun. For me and my daughter. I gotta ask, why the scan?"

"You're an older woman so chances are you are a former tanker. The Association finds it imperative to gather the feedback of former tankers and compare them to the ones of today."

"Ah, I get it."

The official browsed her tablet for a moment more.

"So, what relation have with the person who invited you?"

"Uhhh…come again?"

"The person who invited you. A Martin Redwood."

"I don't know anyone with that name."

"Oh…really?"

The two women were confused.

"Huh…strange to be invited by someone you don't know." remarked the official.

"And a bit unnerving too." added Hayes.

"Well, there's nothing against the rules over who people can invite, but it's odd all the same. Take care."

The official departed, leaving a curious Hayes. This Martin Redwood person won't ever leave her mind until she gets to the bottom of this. She'll learn why she is even here in the first place.

* * *

With a minute to spare, Ray had arrived at the captain's event. Just outside its door was a group of people. All girls. That made him anxious even though he fully expected this. His walk slowed as he approached them. He was taller than all of them, as if he needed any more attention. The feeling he was experiencing was one he felt before. When he walked through the women's sections in clothing stores. Obviously he didn't walk in those sections to gawk. His mom was there so of course he would have to go there. Even if the women in those areas who saw him understood, it still made him uncomfortable. Now, here he was among team captains of a sport heavily marketed toward women. It was more than a 'fish-out-of-water' feeling. It was more like the fish being flung a thousand miles inland. He stood outside the group, against a wall, waiting. No one noticed his presence at first, as they were chatting with each other. One did happen to look in his direction and was briefly bewildered. Her face returned to normal and looked away. She had quickly accepted the fact that he as here and it seemed like everyone else would too. The doors opened and the group walked in. Ray followed right behind, welcomed by the officials who had welcomed everyone else. When the doors closed, the outside area wasn't vacant. A trio of girls has been watching him for a while now. They were tracking Ray down ever since they've lost him the day before. At tables, they sat. Now waiting.

"When he leaves that event…we'll 'introduce' ourselves."

* * *

Valarie browsed the booths to see what they were selling, What piqued her interest were tank model kits. She looked through a selection but was disappointed that she did not find a T-44 kit. Some more perusing and she did find something that caught her eye. A Panzer IV model kit. With mark H specifications. She looked at the box for several seconds. Her eyes went from the tracks to the hull, to the end of the barrel. It was funny, she thought, that this tank has repeatedly popped in her life over the past few months. She wonders if it will ever stop being funny. After some more time looking at the kit, she decided against buying it. Considering the events of the past few months, she wasn't really keen on spending money. She walked off and checked her phone. It was five minutes to noon, five minutes until her and Emma meet at the nearby. Her heartbeat quickened. She must already be waiting for her. With an ever-increasing eagerness, Valarie left the convention. The weather outside hasn't changed, the storm has yet to pass. There was a break in the rain though. A cold breeze came through which cause Valarie to zip up her jacket, which she only realized now that it isn't warm enough for the current weather. No matter. Soon, very soon, she'll be warmer than the sun. Being in the middle of Houston, the ambiance was loud but that wasn't something she found irritating. The park, when she arrived, was scarcely populated on the account of the rain. This played to her advantage as Emma wasn't difficult to find at all. Sat at a bench. When she saw her, Emma gave her an endearing and genuine smile which she was more than happy to return in kind. When they met, the girls hugged like they haven't seen each other in years.

"Hi. Shopping good?" Emma asked.

"Ah, there wasn't anything good." Valarie answered.

"Yeah, that happens sometimes. Ha…ha."

A brief awkward silence ensued.

"So…what do you want to do? Valarie questioned

"Let's just have a walk."

"I'd like that."

The two began their stroll at a leisurely pace. No need to rush into things. The walkway they were on was flanked by trees on each side. Their leaves danced as gusts of wind blew them. The rustling sound they made producing a gentle sound. The birds, in defiance of the storm, sang their tunes. A tune seemingly made for the girls walking below. They looked at their surroundings but were mostly looking at each other. When their eyes matched, they quickly looked away. There was this electricity in the air. But it wasn't from the lightning. It was between two people. Emma Gray and Valarie Woodlin. And it was soon to make a long-awaited connection. Emma was nervous. Incredibly so. The words were in her mind but hesitated to be vocalized. She internally chastised herself over how cowardly she was. She fantasized for so long about this moment and now when there is a chance to make her fantasies come to life, but now she hesitates?

No.

She can't miss this.

She won't miss this.

"Valarie." Emma uttered.

She turned toward her.

"There is something I've been meaning to say…man…years now."

They both stopped walking. Both of their hair were faintly playing in the wind.

"Emma, I, uh, also got something to say to you." Valarie announced.

"But you go first."

Emma breathed in deeply and withdrew the piece of paper from her pocket, unfolding it. It was then Valarie noticed her painted nails. A meaning that she knew all too well. Emma was silently reading the paper. Her breathing increased and got deeper as her nervousness skyrocketed. She went back and forth looking at the paper and at Valarie. Her hands were shaking. They desired to be held. The heat of the moment got to her. She set down the paper.

"Actually…y-you go first." Emma suggested.

Valarie's fingers were fidgeting.

"Um…I don't have a letter like you so…you go."

A stand-off.

"I…ugh. I'm…just so nervous." Emma said.

"Well, you're in good company." Valarie said with a soft laugh.

They both thought of what to do. Emma then had the solution.

"At…at the same time, okay? We say what we want to say at the same time." she explained.

Valarie nodded. She counted down.

"On three."

Unknowingly, the two have stepped closer to together. Their cheeks steadily becoming a rosy red. Both of their breathing has now slowed as their eyes locked on to each other. Just one emotion existed in them both. An emotion that they held within themselves for years. Like an agitated soda can, they were about to burst. Years of waiting all to end in the next few seconds.

"One…two…three!"

"I love you!" they both confessed in perfect unison.

On each of their faces were an shocked expression. In truth, both of them knew that this was going to happen, the signs were all there. But hearing those words being exchanged elicited feelings that none of them could ever have imagined. The shock on their faces had given way to overwhelming elation, their smiles grand.

"You…you mean that right? This isn't some cruel prank?" Emma asked

"I mean it one hundred percent. I love you, Emma. I've always had."

"Oh my God…it's happening…it's finally happening!"

Valarie moved closer to Emma to the point where the girls were just inches apart. She grabbed both of her hands and held them gently, bringing them closer to their faces. The world, to them, was just each other.

"Valarie, I've known you for nearly a decade of my life. Each moment I've spent with you is filled with joy. I can't imagine being with anyone else. Every time I think of you, I smile. Every time I'm with you, I'm so happy. For the rest of my life, I want to be with you and you with me. I'd do anything for your happiness."

A solitary tear emerged from Valarie's eye.

"That was your letter, wasn't it?" she asked.

"It was. Despite it all, I remembered it word for word."

"They were lovely words. Lovely as you."

Emma blushed brilliantly. Valarie learned forward and they rubbed noses.

"You said you'd do anything for my happiness and I believe that with all my heart. When I was homeless, you helped me. You took me in and comforted me. You did all that without a second thought or expecting money. The only thing you wanted was my happiness."

Now it was Emma who was tearing up, though Valarie was sure that some of the water on her face was actually from the rain. The weather had gotten colder but they were anything but. Valarie had moved her hands. One on Emma's lower back and another just on the rear of her neck. What was about to transpire was going to make them nice and warm. The sky above them rumbled, thunder cracked, and a flash of lightning manifested in the distance. The rain began to come down more intensely. Their faces were drawn closer together as if they were magnetized. So close were they only mere inches separated their lips. Their noses once again touched and rubbed. They were just teasing each other at this point and they loved and savored every moment of it. Though the best moment was yet to come. Emma had now mimicked the hand placements of Valarie. All the pieces were in their positions. Simultaneously, they each brought their lips to meet. Finally, at long last, they kissed. The emotion shared between them was pure bliss, far exceeding their wildest dreams. It was intoxicating, in the best way possible. The kiss between them lasted several long, heavenly seconds. When it ceased, their eyes opened and were once again looking at each other. They laughed.

"You're soaked." Valarie noted.

"So are you."

The rain had intensified during their moment of passion. Their clothes were absolutely drenched, as was their hair. Looking up, they saw more bolts of lighting silently flashing across the sky. It was the type of weather that would ruin people's day. Not for them. As for them, it was the total opposite. This day was greatly enhanced because of it. They wouldn't forget this day for the rest of their lives.

"I was your crush, wasn't I?" Emma asked.

"Of course you were."

Emma smiled with satisfaction.

"Let's go back to the hotel and change into dry clothes."

"Sure. But…we aren't in any rush are we?" Valarie asked.

"No. No we are not."

Their arms interlocked and hands were held as the young couple walked back to their hotel room. They were bubbly, overjoyed at the fact that they were now together at last. Neither knew what the future held for them, but, they were fully prepared to write it together.

* * *

In the upper level of the convention, a girl sat alone at a table. She was waiting. Patient at first though over time, she grew more frustrated. Her fingers tapped methodically against the top of the table. From her peripheral view, she saw a pair of girls ascending a flight of nearby stairs and making their way toward her.

"Where the Hell were you guys? Is ten minutes not ten minutes anymore?" the waiting girl complained.

"Sorry Caroline. We got held up. But it's relevant."

"Explain."

"We met more with the students of the school you assigned us to observe. We understand them a lot better now."

"Great! Lay it on me."

"Well, Mojave Rose is exactly what we thought it was. Your run-of-the-mill public school. Nothing really to be concerned with."

"That's…that's it?!" Caroline exclaimed

"That's all you learned?"

The girls were annoyed.

"What the Hell do you want us to say, Caroline? That they have God on their side? That the Force is strong with them? They're normal."

Caroline rubbed her face and took a breath.

"Alright…alright. I'm sorry. You both did well. You can go now."

They left. Caroline remained at the table to think. She never told Penelope that she had some fear regarding Mojave Rose. A school that hasn't had a tankery team in over two decades only just recently revived it and now are in the semi-finals? That made her somewhat fearful of them. If Penelope, or anyone else for that matter, discovered that fear, they all would relentlessly tease her about it. But now, the fear was gone. She now fully understood that Mojave Rose was a normal school. A public school. No way did they have the same resources that Molly Pitcher has. If the two schools happened to have a match together, Caroline pondered, Mojave Rose won't stand a chance. But it will be fun, undoubtedly. All content, she reclined in her seat and relaxed. She enjoyed herself for a few minutes before the sound of approaching footsteps captured her attention.

"Hey. You seen a tall Hispanic guy around here" the stranger asked.

"Nope. Sorry. Really am." Caroline answered.

Disappointed, the girl left and descended back down the stairs. Her head turned in all directions. She saw a familiar face but it was not the person she was seeking.

"Jane!" she called to her.

Jane turned her direction walked over.

"What's up, Natalie?"

"Have you seen Ray?"

"No. Have you checked the food court?"

"That was the first place I checked but he wasn't there. I don't know where else to look."

Jane put one a thinking expression.

"Um…oh! He went to that captain's event."

"Him? Not Valarie?"

"She had something important to do so Ray went in her place. That's just what I heard though."

"Okay, but surely that event is over by now?"

Jane shrugged.

"I guess. He could be in his hotel room. Maybe he turned in early after the event? If not, you could just wait for him there."

Natalie nodded.

"I'll swing by there to see. Thanks."

She went off. Across the convention hall, she walked, ignoring everything else. Well, not everything. All the people she was walking past, it was impossible to not hear their conversations. Nearly all of which were not interesting in the slightest. Except when she heard something that stopped her dead in her tracks.

"…almost made him cry."

It was an obvious fact to everyone that at the convention that male attendance was out-shadowed by the fairer sex. So, it was a good possibility that this 'him' they were talking about was Ray. Natalie leaned against a wall in a way that looks like she was resting and started to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"He had the gall to be at that captain's event. If anything we were too lenient on him." one remarked.

"The bastard came real close to crying right in front of us. It would've been great if he did to complete his humiliation." added another.

"He probably thinks he can avoid us. He won't. We'll find and harass. If we're good, maybe he and his friends will quit the sport before the convention is up."

One smiled in a demented sort of way.

"He will be made to understand that he or any other guy has no damn place in tankery."

At this moment, Natalie felt that she could no longer be a bystander. She turned around and marched right up toward them.

"I once thought as you did. Thinking that boys have no place in the sport as I thought they only joined to pick-up dates. But I was wrong. So wrong. And so are all of you."

The small group of girls stared daggers at her. Natalie was unphased. One of them approached her, face a scowl.

"Don't you care about tankery?" she demanded

"I do. That's why I think the more people who join the better."

The girl let out a mocking laugh.

"God, you're a stupid one. Boys don't belong in the sport at all. They can fuck right off."

"The boys on my team belong. They are dedicated to the sport as much as you and me. The sooner you can accept that, the better you will feel. I know that first hand."

The girl just eyed her for several moments, eyes squinted.

"You have boys on your team? Are you from…Mojave Rose?" she asked.

Natalie answered with a nod.

"You're the school we're facing off against later this month."

"Yeah. A nice friendly match in Montana." Natalie said sarcastically

Another of the girls joined the conversation.

"I remember her from the picture of the article! She's the commander of their Jagdpanzer IV."

The girl closest to Natalie looked back at her.

"In our little match, we are going to find you and fuck you up. Right after we destroy that IS-3, and I mean _destroy. _That is if that male crew is still around anyway."

Natalie got up all in her face, arms at her hips.

"Why wait bitch? Let's settle things right here, right now."

They stared at each other for several tense moments. Their arms twitching in anticipation. Though the time they have known each other was less than five minutes, they already hated the other's very existence. The people around them began to take notice. Slowly, a crowd began to form. The crowd being entirely composed of high school students, they were hoping to catch a possible fight kick-off. Then, a member of the girl's group walked up to her.

"Cassandra, the captain wants us to meet with her for something. We gotta go."

Natalie put on a smug smile.

"Good tankers follow orders, Cassandra."

Cassandra looked at her with fury.

"Shut the fuck up. This isn't over."

The group made a hasty exit and the crowd dispersed. Natalie felt as she had won the first round, though, how many rounds are they left? Regardless, she now left the convention and back to the hotel. It was still raining but that was not at all her concern. At the hotel, she saw that there was a line at the elevator. Impatient, she went for the stairwell and climbed them to the fourth floor. Legs aching, she walked the floor reading the door numbers.

"D13…D15…ah, here it is, D17."

She stopped and knocked on the door. No response. Another knock, this one harder.

"Ray? You there? Anyone? Hello?"

Natalie rested her head against the door. She could hear the faint sound of someone getting up from a bed and walking slowly toward the door. The locks were disengaged and the door opened just enough for Ray's head to peak out.

"Oh. It's you."

There was a redness around his eye and when he spoke, Natalie noted that his voice was somewhat nasally. He looked rough and exhausted.

"Are you okay?" Natalie asked.

"I'm fine."

"You're no good at lying, Ray."

He sighed.

"No. I'm not okay."

"What happened?"

"It's a whole thing. Not enough for anyone to care."

"Well, I care. Care enough to walk all the way to your room."

Ray glanced down. Then he beckoned Natalie to enter his room. He then plopped onto the bed.

"What happened, Ray?" Natalie asked again.

"After the captain's event, a group of girls surrounded me and harassed me. They told me that I was ruining the sport and needed to get lost. I refused. They called me a bastard. An asshole. A mother fucker. And I could just ignore that really but when one of them called me a pervert, that was too much."

"That's awful Ray. Genuinely awful."

"I tried to walk away but they followed me around the convention. Hurled every insult they could've created. I managed to lose them and hid in the men's restroom. I was in the stall for like an hour, not even kidding. I left the bathroom and headed straight to my room. I was scared that they followed me here and when you knocked, I honestly thought it was them."

The more Ray explained what has happened, the more angry Natalie became.

"Did they make you cry?"

"Eventually they did. Though, I made sure they didn't see it. I held it in until I made it back to my room. I'm not giving them that satisfaction."

Natalie was stunned. She looked toward Ray who was staring up at the ceiling, his breathing interrupted with him sniffling.

"But the worst thing about it all…" Ray continued.

"…was that no one helped me. It's not like the girls caught me in some back alley. People were nearby. They saw what was happening. It made them uncomfortable, I could see it on their faces. But none of them did a damn thing. I was alone."

Ray tried to hold it in but still cried. Natalie reached for a tissue and handed it to him. He dabbed his eyes and cleared his nose and soon began to calm back down.

"Um…this may or may not be the right time to say but those girls are part of the team we're going against in Montana."

Ray looked at her and back at the ceiling.

"I see…"

He got up from the bed.

"They think they can bully me off the team but they won't. They can beat me with bats and pipes and I will still be in this sport. We're going to knock them the fuck out from the tournament."

Natalie smiled, the biggest one Ray had ever seen on her. She walked up closer to him and hugged him.

"You belong. Your friends belong. No one can say otherwise." she whispered into her ear.

They hugged for what seemed like forever. Natalie was enjoying this moment when she suddenly backed off.

"Um…uh…don't say to anyone I did that, okay?"

"Sure thing. I'll just say we cuddled instead."

"Don't you dare give people the wrong idea, Ray!"

"Take it easy Natalie, I won't say a word. Other than thanks."

With that, Natalie left. She didn't like the joke he made but she did like seeing that Ray was already returning to his joking-self.

* * *

"I'm not playing virtual reality games again. My eyes hurt and I only played for a few minutes." Heather complained

"Guess VR is nor for you. I still had fun at least." Ashley said

Heather rubbed her eyes and blinked them repeatedly

"Feeling a bit better now."

"When we get back to the room, I got some eye droplets."

The elevator dinged and they stepped off. They walked down the hallway to their hotel room. The moment they unlocked the door and stepped inside, they halted.

"Oh my." Heather whispered.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Ashley said as loudly as she can.

They had walked in on Valarie and Emma, kissing and cuddling on the bed. Everyone was just looking at each other for a few moments in silence. An awkward silence that only Ashley seemed to be enjoying.

"Um." Valarie uttered.

"Yeah…we're dating now." Emma announced.

"It's about time!" Ashley exclaimed.

"What do you mean 'about time'?" Valarie inquired.

"I'm not blind, Val. I saw this happening a mile away. I'm so happy for you both."

Valarie and Emma blushed and held hands.

"So. Who confessed first." Heather questioned, near demanded.

Emma and Valarie exchanged glances.

"Um, well, we both said 'I love you' and kissed at the same time. So no one really went first." Emma explained

Astounded, Heather and Ashley faced each other.

"What do we do now? Who wins?" Ashley asked.

"I…don't know. I don't think there is a winner." Heather mused.

"So we both lose? Really?"

"What are you guys talking about? Winning? Losing?" Valarie asked, totally confused.

"We…uh…bet on which one of you would confess your love first." Ashley admitted.

"But since you both confessed at the same time, that messes with our bet a little." Heather said.

"Ah sorry. Not too sorry though." Emma remarked.

Heather and Ashley paced around the room to think of some sort of solution to the conundrum facing them. Heather then smiled.

"I got it."

She withdrew a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet.

"Let's just exchange the bills."

Ashley looked at the bill in Heather's hand and nodded.

"A fair compromise, I guess"

They swapped the cash.

"That was fun, but the next bet we place a bit, there will be definite winners and losers." Ashley said.

"I'm looking forward to taking all your money." Heather responded.

The day wasn't fully over but the four girls decided to turn in early today. For Heather and Ashley, their day was spent playing that VR game which wore them out and strained their eyes. For Emma and Valarie, their relationship has blossomed into one that was more romantic. They could now call each other girlfriends. Already were they brainstorming where to go for their first and proper date. They slept together on the bed and cuddled into the night, an act that was absolutely blissful. It was good that the girls went to bed early as they'll need all their energy for tomorrow. The air will be thick with engine gas fumes. Tires will screech and reaction time will be tested. A Panther II was up for grabs and the Mojave Rose team was ready for the checkered flag to drop.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Start your engines!

_Wednesday, April 10th, 2013_

After months of anticipation the day had finally arrived. Race day. In one of the many hotel rooms, Aurora and her crew were all dressed in their uniforms. The Puma commander took a last glance at the mirror and nodded in satisfaction.

"You guys ready?" she asked.

"I'm ready to drive like a god-damn bastard." Riley said, smiling

"As long as you two don't roll the damn thing, I'm happy" Avery said.

With it being a race and not a shooting match, there was no need for Avery to be in the vehicle, where she is both the gunner and the loader of the Puma. The trio of girls left their room and took an elevator down to the lobby, where the rest of the team had congregated.

"Good, everyone is here." Buchanan said upon seeing the Puma crew.

"Today's the day. We've prepared as much as we can. You all have your roles and the only thing expected from you is your best. The raceway is just outside of the city and all the equipment that we need is already there. Waiting for us."

With a gesture of her hand, Buchanan led the team out from the lobby to a bus parked outside. Once they all boarded, they were off. The city streets were soon exchanged for more open roads of the freeway. Within the hour, they all saw the place. The raceway. Usually serves NASCAR when they come down here, but for today, instead of super fast cars speeding around the track, it was not as fast armored cars going around the track. The lowered speeds didn't make the spectacle any less thrilling however. The stands were populated with eager spectators, their eagerness telling the team just how loud the crowd was.

"This is something else." Valarie noted.

"Oh man this is gonna be so intense! Wish it was _us _racing though." Ashley commented.

"Well, if the T-44 could somehow drive thirty miles per hour faster, we might then have a shot."

The team went to an area that was underneath the track. An area that was for the team's participating in the race. It was there they could now scoop out the competition. There were four other vehicles in this underground garage. All competing against Mojave Rose in a bid to win a Panther II.

\- M8 Greyhound

\- T17E1 Staghound

\- Daimler Armored Car

\- AMD Panhard 178

Valarie looked at them all, studying. Aurora walked up to her and tapped her shoulder.

"Alright you tank nerd, how's the competition? Are they fast?"

"I know roughly how fast they go but that's with a full crew, ammo, and other equipment. If they are like us, they too have gutted their cars for the sake of speed. It's an evening playing field at the very least."

Aurora inhaled deeply.

"Aw man. I was hoping we'd run away with this thing."

"Ah, we dream of that but it almost never happens."

Redwood led the team to the pit crew area where they would remain for the rest of the race. Aurora and Riley stayed behind with Buchanan. They were with the Puma, giving a quick visual inspection.

"Tires good. Engine good. We're all set." Riley informed.

"The officials should've done all that was needed so that you don't have to do anything before the race." Buchanan said.

"That's the hope, anyway."

The two girls climbed into their positions.

"Just sit tight you two. Wait for the announcement to drive onto the starting line. Oh, and one more thing."

Buchanan gave them portable radios with accompanying headsets.

"Clip those radios on your belt and wear the headsets. We need a line of communication."

"Thanks" both the girls.

"Good luck." Buchanan remarked, then walking to the pit area.

Aurora and Riley got comfortable in their seats as they waited for the go-ahead.

"Check. You read me Riley?"

"Loud and clear."

"Great. Way better than yelling."

Aurora from her pocket got out the race rules and reviewed them.

"The only thing we can't do is shoot at each other. But if people are smart, they shouldn't have any ammo in the first place. Other than that though we're free to do what we want. Perhaps even…ram…or pit someone.

"Sounds like a great way for us to get taken out of the race. Too much risk." Riley countered.

"Maybe. Maybe. Let's just see how things play out. Never know what could happen in the heat of the moment."

Aurora looked around the area. The other vehicles were idling their engines waiting for the call. A PA system clicked on.

"Racers. Proceed to the starting line. Race begins in ten minutes."

All the armored cars in the area drove on. They formed a line as they emerged from the underground garage and onto the track. Once the crowd caught sight of them, their excitement grew. At a steady speed, they all formed up at the starting line. Overhead, an official held the checkered flag. Waiting for the moment to wave it. In the pit area, the Mojave rose team was ready. Spare tires and extra fuel were prepared and some members were playing with the impact wrenches to get a feel for them. On an elevated chair was Valarie, binoculars trained at the starting line.

"Guess you can add crew chief to your resume, eh Val?" Buchanan remarked.

"Yeah, I'm just racking them up." Valarie responded with a laugh.

The racers were ready. The pit crews were ready. All that everyone could do now was wait. Among the crowd, a number of schools were watching. Up high in the stands, two girls dressed in identical uniforms were in the middle of a conversation. One of the pointed down toward the starting line.

"There they are. There's Mojave Rose's Puma." Penelope announced.

"A Puma? They are speedy scout cars." Caroline said.

"Yes, but so are the other vehicles. It will be close. Still. I wish them luck."

"Why?"

"As I've told you, they are nice people. Also…I think the two girls I met are more than friends and that's really cute honesty."

They looked down at the track for a few moments.

"But of course…" Penelope continued.

"Should we ever go against them. The pleasantries will stop."

At another area of the stands, a group of girls were sitting in relaxed states, waiting for the race to begin. One of them had a pair of binoculars and was leisurely peering through them. When she turned her gaze down at the pit area, she no longer felt relaxed.

"Hey! That guy is down at the pits!" she yelled

"What?" said another.

"He's down there. Along with that girl from yesterday."

"Give me that."

She took the binoculars from her hands and saw what she saw.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. Mojave Rose is in the race."

"What can we do about that, Cassandra?"

"Nothing." she said dejectedly.

"Other than pray that they lose."

Just a few rows above them, two adult women were nestled in their seats. Unlike the people below them, they were happy.

"It's them! Those kids!" Zoey exclaimed.

"Oh yeah, that's them! Good call on coming to the race. Since they have a Puma, well, the odds were good."

"Once it's over. We'll speak with them. Hopefully, they got the answers we are looking for."

At the starting line, engines were hot and being revved. Exhaust fumes were gushing out, thick and black. There was a slight drizzle that moistened the track but it was not totally drenched. Just prior to the race, a small army of pick-up trucks with jet engines strapped to their rear blasted the asphalt with intense heat. It was as dry as it could be considering the circumstances.

"Sixty seconds!" yelled the announcer.

Aurora cracked her knuckles and laid her hands firmly against the inner walls of the Puma. She took a deep breath and enjoyed the last remaining seconds of relative calm. She tended to her hair, long and brown. It was tucked into her helmet so that it wouldn't bounce in front of her face when things got underway. The metal of the vehicle was cold. It especially didn't help that the Puma was stored in an underground garage for the past few days. But they didn't care. The cold would soon be the least of their concerns. Aurora trained her eyes at the official ahead and above them. She was looking at her watch. Her head was bouncing slightly, as if she was mentally counting down. Then, her head stopped and reached down and grabbed the checkered flag. Another quick glance at her watch and with great energy waved the flag. At the same time, the announcement system sounded off.

"Aaand they're off!"At the starting line was the simultaneous noise of screeching tires as all of the drivers slammed down on the accelerators. To Aurora and the rest of the Mojave Rose team, it was now clear that the other racers did indeed lighten their vehicles however they could. Valarie noticed this first as the other armored cars moved much faster than what she read about them. No one was going to run away with this thing. The racers reached the first turn. They broke hard to make the turn tight, tires screaming hellishly as they did and produced skid marks. Coming out of the turn, the Greyhound took the lead, followed by the Panhard, Puma, Staghound, and Daimler. Though the Greyhound was in first place, it wasn't a comfortable lead. The rest of the racers were right behind, battling each other to overtake. Clashing against each other was unavoidable. It was accidental, of course. Well, they said it was an accident but that really couldn't be proven. Aurora's eyes were darting around their sockets, looking intensely at each of their competitors. She was searching for an opportunity. The Panhard, that French car, was only just able to keep ahead of the Puma. They were annoying too far yet too close at the same time. In addition to that, they were mimicking their movements. But there was this delay. When the Puma turned toward the left to attempt an overtake, the Panhard would block that maneuver a few quick seconds later. If only she could overtake she could block them all so much better thanks to the rear driving seat. For now, she could only be patient and hope that when the opportunity arises, she can act on it immediately.

Back at the pits, the team were all fixated at the racers. The Puma, of course, was their main focus. Those with binoculars enjoyed the show. Others were using the tools at their disposal to do work. One with binoculars trained them on the Puma's wheels to judge their condition.

"They look pretty alright." one reported.

"How about fuel?"

"It should be good."

At her elevated chair, Valarie watched. All things were good so there wasn't anything for anyone to do. Her focus on the track was interrupted by the sensation of someone climbing on her chair.

"Emma? What's up?" Valarie asked.

"This race. How long is it?"

"Twenty-five laps. Way shorter than a NASCAR race or else we'd be here forever."

Back at the track, the situation was more or less the same. The Greyhound was in the lead with everyone else bouncing against each other trying to take first place for themselves. Riley was hyper-focused at the task at hand. She had a death grip on the steering wheel, only briefly letting go to shift gears. Over the past few months, she had become very familiar with her machine. Just be listening closely to how the engine sounded, she shifted gears accordingly. From the driver's viewport, her vision was restricted. It was mostly filled with the rears of other racers with the occasional glimpse of the wall and cheering spectators. She took a peek at the gauges and what she saw made her eyes squint.

"You've got to be kidding me…man…Aurora! We're almost out of gas! The needle is about to hit the red!"

"No way! We should have a full tank!"

"Yeah, we should but we don't."

Aurora shook her head. She activated her radio.

"_Oasis! _Or Valarie? Do we do call signs for this? Ah, whatever! We're pulling to the pits for refueling."

"Already?" Valarie asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I feel the same way. Get ready for us."

Valarie hopped off her chair.

"They're pulling up to refuel. Whose on that?"

"Me!" yelled Avery with great enthusiasm, hand raised high in the air.

At the pit area was a large fuel canister. Attached to it was a nozzle to deliver the fuel. At once, Avery went on over and detached the nozzle from its hold. Not too long after, the Puma pulled from the track and quickly stopped in front of the area. One the side facing Avery, at the far right, was a small hatch. Moving quickly, she went up to the little hatch, opened it up, and inserted the gas nozzle. The moment she pressed on the trigger, gallons of fuel were pumped into the machine. The delivery system hummed as it did its job. All the while, the other racers continued to burn rubber. Aurora from her position watched and grew more frustrated by the second.

"Goddammit, this shouldn't be happening in the first place. Are you almost done?"

"Almost there. I'm giving you a full tank here. Something that should've been done already." Avery responded.

Aurora grumbled as she ducked into the car. At Avery, the nozzle produced a clicking sound followed by the flow of fuel stopping. They were now all gassed up. The nozzle was removed and the hatch was closed. She slammed on the Puma with her hand and a moment later the armored car peeled out. It sped back to the track and began the arduous task of catching up. They were in last place. Three laps have been done. There was time to move up the ranks, if they had to be forced back to the pits, their chances will be much lower to recover. Riley slammed down the throttle as far down as it could go. The engine producing revs seldom heard before. Ground was steadily being regained. From Riley's view, the Daimler encompassed more and more of her vision. A slight grin appeared on her face as she shifted a gear. It was as satisfying as when she did it the first time. From where Aurora sat, her eyes were searching for an opportunity. The racers ahead were swerving at random. At times there was a nice separation between them all. At other times, they were all densely packed together, metal touching metal, like sardines in a can. There was no stability. The situation was incredibly fluid. The Puma made attempts at overtaking but the Daimler was on top of things. They moved to the left when they did, turned to the right as they did so. As the Puma was right behind the Daimler, its exhaust fumes were inadvertently blown in their direction. The hatches were closed nice and tight, but still, the fumes found a way to seep within. Riley and Aurora put their bandannas over their faces and did their best to ignore the strong odor in the air. Their breathing reduced to an absolute minimum. Another lap and the situation was mostly the same, irking both of the girls. The Daimler was deadset on ensuring that the Puma remained in last place. But what people wanted and what they got are two different things. And for the Daimler, their participation in the race was soon to come to an end. As it swerved to the left and right to counter the Puma, it began to wobble. The Daimler's driver tried to correct but the wobbling worsened and got more violent. The other armored cars saw what was coming and steered clear of the Daimler. Its wheels were shaking around, the lug nuts coming loose from their sockets. They were out of control and only through a miracle did they happen to be pointed in the right direction. Though only briefly. Their rear wheels could only sustain so much abuse and strain. Within the minute that the wobbling started, the lug nuts of the rear wheels flew off, followed by the wheels themselves coming off from their mounts and rolled away in separate directions. The rear of the Daimler, now without its rear wheels, fell onto the track scrapping against it, producing a shower of sparks. They veered to the right and crashed into the wall, coming to a stop.

"Wow! Total mechanical failure for the Daimler car! They are out of this race!" exclaimed the announcer.

The Daimler's crash was the chance the Puma was waiting for. Taking advantage of the chaos, they sped up. Past the Panhard and the Staghound, sliding into second place. Aurora grinned and wiped the sweat off her forehead. The fighting compartment has become quite the warm environment. They were now in a much more favorable position but not in the ideal spot. The Greyhound was ahead of them. It has been in first place since the race began. Dislodging them from there will be a real challenge. The Puma was closing the distance through the Greyhound was just a hair faster. Behind was the Panhard and the Staghound. Aurora contemplated transferring to the rear driving seat and work on preventing them from overtaking, but doing so would severely hamper Riley's ability to do, well, anything. Both steering wheels couldn't be used at the same time. For Aurora, to go to the rear, they had to be in first. Only then could they go all out.

The occupants of the crashed Daimler were still in the armored car. The race hasn't been stopped for them. Before the race started, officials briefed the participants that in the event that any of them crashed, that they remain in the vehicles. Being more armored than a race car, should any other racer collide into them, the occupants would be fine. There wouldn't be any recovery of the wreck either. The idea was that crashed vehicles would serve as obstacles on the track and therefore be 'entertaining' for the spectators. Buchanan didn't like that at all. Once again was the Association flaunting safety in the name of entertainment. It was all about the ratings. The higher they were, the more money they made from advertisers. No doubt that Daimler crash will be replayed ad nauseam to advertise to the nation just how exciting tankery is. As if a sport that involves tanks shooting each other wasn't thrilling enough. Buchanan exhaled sharply through her nose and turned her attention away from the race and toward her students. They were all captivated by the race, eyes fixated on the speeding armored car. She then looked at Valarie, sat on her elevated chair. She was focused, face serious. Her hand was firmly placed on the radio to talk with the Puma at a moment's notice. The sight made her smile. Buchanan was immensely proud of how far Valarie had come and what she had overcome. It made her reflect on her own life and how she come along in the past few months. Mentally, she was in a way better place compared to the year before. The same could be said about her physical health. It has been ages since she had an alcoholic drink. Any that were once in her apartment were poured down the drain to remove all temptation. Now more sober than ever before, she noted that her skin was more vibrant, glowing. Waking up in the morning was no longer a sludge. It was just simple. She was also now in a relationship with someone she had loved since her time in high school. At her lowest, she wouldn't have imagined any of this happening to her. A part of her used to say that she didn't deserve any happiness. Used to say. Now, she knows better. Of course she deserves to be happy. Everyone does. And to think that none of this would happen at all had she didn't change her mind when Valarie and her friends first offered her the opportunity to be their tankery instructor. Had her 'no' remained a 'no'.

She recalled sitting at her apartment in the dark after an exhaustive day of hiking. How she was thinking about their proposal. They had saved her life without even knowing it. All of the positivity and joy happened to her simply by saying 'yes'. The best 'yes' she had ever said in her life. Well…there is another proposal that saying yes too would send her to cloud nine. Though, that was up to Redwood to initiate. Buchanan smiled as she was thinking when a hand was laid on her shoulder, radiating warmth and comfort.

"This is all pretty cool, huh?" Redwood asked.

"Yeah. Though, if I were running the show, I'd make some different decisions."

"All about safety I bet." Redwood guessed.

"Obviously."

"I knew it. I gotta admit it, Gabby, but, uh, your persistence and passion regarding student safety is something that I find, ahem, attractive."

Buchanan's eyes lit up.

"Oh really? That's what gets you going?"

Redwood rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Um…yeah. It's odd but true."

Buchanan looked toward the team to ensure that none of them were looking at their direction, where she then leaned in and gave him a kiss.

"Ha! I'll take it!" she exclaimed.

Back at the track and now ten laps have been completed. Fifteen remained. The Puma has maintained its second-place position but not without defending it vigorously. Riley's hands were beginning to ache over the constant steering. She ignored the pain. She had to, even as it worsened. The crew of the Greyhound ahead of them must've done everything possible to shed weight for speed. Evidently, more than anything Mojave Rose did. This frustrated both of them, more for Riley. As this race went on, her desire to claim victory increased. Now, she was beyond the point of being cautious. Got to get your hands dirty to get anything done.

"Aurora." she said over the radio.

"Yeah?"

"A suggestion."

"Sure, I'm open to anything."

"Let's ram the Greyhound."

"Pardon?" Aurora asked, bewildered

"Ram. The. Greyhound."

Aurora didn't spend too long thinking about her suggestion.

"Yeah…yeah! Go for it!"

The Puma accelerated greatly, closing the distance. The Greyhound anticipated that they would attempt to overtake, but instead, were given the shock of their lives when the Puma clashed against its rear. The impact caused them to swerve a little. Aurora was laughing maniacally.

"Ahahaha! We're like a battering ram! Keep it up!"

With glee, Riley rammed the Greyhound repeatedly. Each it causing them to swerve more and more. Its tires were beginning to leave marks on the track. Riley then eased on the throttle and let the Greyhound get some separation. Once enough distance was reached, she floored it. The engine gauges hitting their maximum. The distance between them made for great energy potential. The Puma then unleashed a heavy ram on the Greyhound. It was powerful enough that the armored car swerved uncontrollably. They lost control and spun out, miraculously not hitting anyone else. The Puma sped by and were now, finally, in first place. The team back at the pits let out a cheer. Now they had to maintain. And Aurora knew exactly what needed to be done.

"Heading to the rear!" she informed.

"Copy."

Aurora maneuvered her way through the fighting compartment to the rear driving position. She got comfortable in her seat and placed her hands on the steering wheel.

"Alright, just like we practiced. Manage the throttle and I'll make sure no one dares to overtake us!"

Riley relinquished steering control and was now only responsible for maintaining speed. Only during turns would she temporarily resume control to ensure that turning went as smoothly as possible. When the track was straight, it was all Aurora.

The Panhard was now behind. Futile attempt after attempt was made by them to overtake but Aurora parried each move with perfection. The rear driving position was an advantage that they now can use to its full effectiveness. Lap after lap, Aurora toyed with them. Laughing non-stop. She was having the time of her life. Though she wasn't so carried away to notice something that caused some concern. Every time they turned, everyone slowed down to make it a tight one. During this period of time, when Riley was at the helm, the other racers got closer. At each turn, the other racers would get better at their turns and get closer and closer. As the race gone on, it became increasingly difficult for them to maintain their lead.  
"We're now on lap twenty folks! Just five are left! The pressure is most definitely on!" exclaimed the announcer.

Indeed it was. The Panhard was now no longer behind the Puma. The Greyhound had come back with a vengeance.

"Damn. Damn." Aurora muttered.

"How are we on fuel? We're pushing this thing harder than it has ever been pushed."

Riley checked the gauges.

"We got a quarter of gas left." she informed.

"Good. We can't afford going back to the pits now. If we stop, we lose."

The Greyhound had Aurora's full attention. She couldn't see the driver but could feel it in her soul that they were looking right at her. Eyes filled with the singular obsession of retaking their place leading the pack. Like Hell she would let them do that.

"Three laps to go!"

A turn, then the next, the Greyhound has improved in their attempts to overtake. More and more did it become difficult to counter them. If only were they just a bit faster than things wouldn't be so close and tense. But what else could've the team done to lose weight? They would've taken out the engine if only if it wasn't so important. Aurora was sure that they have everything they can to lighten the load. Right? The more she thought about it, the less confident she became. She had to ask an uncomfortable question.

"Riley, we did take out _all_ the ammo for the cannon and machine gun?"

Riley didn't immediately respond.

"…yes?"

It sounded like she wasn't entirely sure either. Aurora now fell compelled to check. Once the track straightened out, she crawled back to her usual commander's seat and searched all the places the ammo would've been stored. The racks on the wall were all empty. She then leaned down and opened a storage container on the floor. There she was greeted with her reflection. On the brass of a 50mm shell.

"God…dammit!" she yelled.

"Oh no, you don't mean—"

"Yeah. We didn't take out all the ammo."

Aurora examined the shell further.

"Stupid blank. Why are you still here?"

"Can one shell mean the difference between winning or losing?"

"Hmm. I dunno but let's assume so. We gotta get rid of this thing."

"Open the hatch and throw the shell out."

Aurora place her hand to open the commander's hatch but stopped herself. An idea had just manifested in her mind. A risky one. But one that would give them the boost of speed they need. They then completed another lap.

"Final lap!"

Aurora looked at the blank. She was sure of what she needed to do.

"Riley…I got an idea. Potentially a stupid, stupid idea."

"What do you mean a stu—"

The blank was loaded into the breech.

"Okay. That _is_ stupid!" she scolded.

"Aha…that wasn't the stupid part." Aurora responded.

She got on the gun and rotated the turret one-hundred and eighty degrees. This action made the racers behind them unnerved, though only briefly. Valarie saw what was happening and reached for the radio.

"What are you doing? You know you can't shoot them." she reminded.

"I know. I'm just doing something maybe stupid. Just trust me, okay."

"Alright." Valarie said reluctantly.

Back at the Puma, Aurora readied he sights. She took her time doing it as it was normally Avery's job to aim.

"Okay, Aurora, what's the plan here?"

"At the final turn before the finish line, I will fire the blank. The energy being released will give us a boost to the finish! Enough that hopefully that Greyhound can't catch up!"

"That sure is a plan. But what's the stupid part."

"That's later." Aurora said with nervous laughter.

Not fully comfortable with whatever Aurora was planning to do, she had to return her attention to the race. The Greyhound was getting closer as the final turn drew near. Aurora placed her finger, breathing slowed, as she focused. A do or die moment was fast approaching. Sweat was flowing down her face, stinging her eye as they came into contact. Wiping her face, she felt the Puma making the turn. The armored car slowed as Riley made the turn as tight as she could. The Greyhound started an attempt to overtake.

"Nope, not today! Firing!"

The trigger was pulled and the cannon fired. A cloud of smoke flew out of the barrel and the breech ejected the now-empty brass shell, falling to the floor with a clang. The Puma was jolted forward, surprising them both.

"Woah! That's some boost!" Riley exclaimed

"Haha! Amazing! Now, stay as close as you can to the inside of the track. This plan of my isn't done yet."

The Puma shifted left, inches away from the interior of the track, filled with soft piles of sand.

"What's next now?" Riley inquired.

"You keep driving."

"And you?"

"I'm going to do something stupid."

Aurora opened the commander's hatch and hopped out. Carefully, she crawled on the outside of the Puma as the high wind battered against her body. She slowly made her way on top of the engine deck.

"You're insane! Absolutely insane!"

"Ha! I'm just shedding the last bit of weight! Keep it steady!"

Aurora eyed the sand ahead of her as she slowly stood up, extending her arms to maintain balance. At what she can only say as a 'good feeling', she jumped off the Puma and landed on a pile of sand. Upon impact, all the breath in her body was jettisoned. She got on her knees and took in several lung-fulls of air. Her head turned to the Puma, now with a comfortable lead.

"Worth it." she said as she gripped her aching stomach.

Valarie, the team, everyone who was watching were absolutely stunned over what had just transpired.

"Holy fuck did she _really _just do that?" she yelled.

"Yes. Yes she did. She's either a genius or insane." Emma added.

The finish line was dead ahead. The Puma was head of the pack but the ever-determined Greyhound was catching.

800 meters.

"Are we…going to win this thing?" Valarie thought aloud.

"Oh man!" Ashley exclaimed.

600 meters.

Avery, the lone Puma member at the pits, smiled, which grew by the moment.

"C'mon Riley! You can do it!"

400 meters.

The team stopped breathing. The tense atmosphere was overwhelming, near suffocating. They were all dead silent.

200 meters.

For Riley, the accelerator was pressed all the way down to the floor. The Puma was giving everything it had. Her heart was pounding, her grip on the wheel supremely tight. She couldn't see what was behind her but could feel the Greyhound on her. Gaining ground. But they couldn't get quite close enough. Not at the end.

10 meters.

The official situated just above the finish line stood up and waved the checked flag to the collection of racing vehicles below. The announcement system came online.

"Mojave Rose with the Puma armored car has won the race of the 2013 Tankery Convention!" yelled the announcer.

The team was now no longer silent. They exploded into cheers in tandem with the loud cheers coming from the stands. All of their work have paid off wonderfully. When the Puma returned to the pits, after doing some victory doughnuts, they were instantly surrounded by the team. Avery opened the driver's hatch, revealing a happy and weary Riley.

"You did it!" Avery yelled.

"We did it! Holy Hell…we won!" Riley said.

She hopped out of the armored car. She flexed her fingers to get the circulation back to normal.

"I've never felt so exhausted and happy at the same time."

"How do you think I feel?" Aurora said once she arrived to the pits.

Her crew ran up to her. Riley placed both her hands on her shoulders.

"God, that was so stupid of you, Aurora!" Riley said.

"Heh, we won didn't we?" Aurora said in a nonchalant way.

"You hurt all over huh?" Avery asked.

"Everywhere." Aurora answered.

They entered into a group hug. The team celebrated at the pits as the spectators began to take their leave. In the stands, some girls reacted to the events that happened.

"So. A Panther II." Caroline said.

"Indeed. An excellent vehicle now in their hands. Well, hats off to them. They played a good race." Penelope said.

Caroline stood up.

"An excellent vehicle means nothing if they have no idea how to use it. I've seen enough. Let's go back to the hotel."

"Lets."

The duo left. At another section of the area, a group of girls was in a dismal mood.

"That's so bullshit. I just…did they really win?" one complained.

"This is a bitter pill to swallow." said another.

"Disgusting."

They turned toward Cassandra.

"What now?"

"It is now hugely important that Mojave Rose loses in our match. By any means necessary."

Beside Cassandra was Ellie. She was shaken over what was being said.

"Is this the e-escalation?"

"Escalation." Cassandra confirmed.

On the stairs next to them, a pair of adult women were making their way down.

"Well, that was fun. Now, let's go and meet those kids from California." Sarah said.

Outside the raceway was a large crowd of moving people. Most were heading toward the parking lot to leave in their cars. Others were waiting in a special area where buses would shuttle them back to their homes. This is where Mojave Rose was, waiting for the bus that dropped them off when the day started. They were in a jovial mood.

"Yesterday was magical. Today was thrilling. This week is going amazing so far." Valarie remarked.

Emma rested her head on her shoulder

"That it is…that it is…"

Emma leaned in close to her ear.

"Babe." she said in a whisper.

Valarie looked at her with cheeks a rosy red.

"God. You'll be making me blush for the rest of my life."

The girls laughed as they hugged. Everyone was relaxed as they waited. Not really paying attention to their surroundings. Coming out from one of the pedestrian exits was Sarah and Zoey. They looked in all directions for the people they were looking for.

"They can't have gone far." Zoey said.

"Yeah…wait…is that them? Over there in the bus area?" Sarah said, pointing.

Zoey looked to where she was pointing. Eyes squinted, she looked at the kids ahead. They looked like the ones she had seen on the television all that time before.

"I'll be damned if that wasn't them. Let's go!"

They navigated through the crowd and approached the group of students. They paid no attention to them.

"Um, excuse me, but, are you guys from Mojave Rose high school?" Zoey asked.

Those that heard her looked at her.

"That's us." answered one.

"Finally! Okay, who's your captain?"

The girl who answered her turned toward the team.

"Valarie! Some women want to see you."

Valarie walked over.

"Hello." she greeted.

"Valarie…lovely name…anyway, my name is Sarah and this is my friend Zoey. We've been looking for you for the past week."

"Wow really?"

"Really. You see, we used to be in a tankery team a long time ago. We once crewed a Sherman Jumbo. As it turns out, the Jumbo _you _have is the exact same one _we _had! Your team also has the same SU-14 we did!"

Valarie was astounded.

"No way! What are the odds?"

"Good apparently. Now, we have to ask. How did you find them."

"My instructor can answer that question better than I can. Miss Buchanan!"

Upon being called, she headed on over.

"Okay, what's up here Val?" she asked.

"These women say the Jumbo and SU-14 we have is the same ones they had when they did tankery long ago."

"You're messing with me, right?"

"We're not." Zoey assured.

"We saw our Jumbo on the TV and it has all the dings and scratches that we made when we had the tank."

"So it was you who put those vehicles in the mine?" Buchanan asked.

"Yes! Yes it was!" Zoey exclaimed.

"Why?"

"It was after that event in 1990 when Tankery in the Mojave went south. Teams were going defunct left and right. I didn't want our Jumbo to be scrapped or to wither away in some junkyard. So, we along with the SU-14 crew drove them away and stashed them in a mine. The original plan was that tankery would soon regain popularity so we could just recover them. But things didn't work out that way. Tankery was dormant for longer than we thought."

"Your schools didn't notice two vehicles suddenly disappearing?" Buchanan asked.

"You've got to understand. Tankery after that day in 1990 dropped off a cliff. No school in the area cared about the sport so they didn't care if vehicles they had were suddenly not there anymore. Good riddance, in their mind."

"Oh believe me, I understand."

"We're so happy to find out that our vehicles survived after twenty years. And even more so to find that they are in good hands." Zoey said.

"Thanks to you, we've got two great tanks in our roster. You both have an incredible determination to the sport."

"You're all very welcome." Sarah said.

The bus for the team had now arrived.

"Well, we'll won't keep much more of your time. Congratulations on your win and good luck on the tournament!" Zoey said.

The two women left.

"This week is just getting better, huh?" Valarie said.

"Yeah. But don't get too ahead of yourself. You do remember what is going on Friday?" Buchanan reminded

Valarie groaned.

"Oh…yeah…that."

"Spend all of tomorrow preparing with Ray."

"We will. We won't let you down."

Buchanan smiled softly.

"I appreciate that Val, I truly do, but let me share some advice. Don't make promises that you can't really keep."


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buchanan's mental health journey has reached its destination.

_Thursday, April 11th, 2013._

The storm today was at its strongest. Not a speck of the blue sky could be seen. Since the early morning hours, it has rained incessantly. Thunder roared more frequently, some soft thuds, others more akin to violent explosions. The thick gray clouds made the day dark, only infrequently illuminated by brilliant bolts of lightning. Horrible weather to go sight-seeing in. But, if there was a particular place that you've wanted to visit since you were a toddler, a place that is essentially your Mecca for your particular passion, not even the literal apocalypse would stop you. This particular person was Mia, commander of the M5 Stuart, yet for today, tankery won't be on her mind at all. The convention was fun and all, but there was something, to her, supremely more fascinating to go and see. When she was picking at her clothes, she was meticulous about it. After considerable thought, she decided on a simple gray t-shirt and jeans with a jacket on account of the weather. She tapped her pockets to ensure that all her belongings were where they should. With a smile, she was ready.

"Today's the day. After all these years dreaming about it." she said.

"Mission control." Olivia chimed in.

"Oh yes, mission control." Mia confirmed.

The other two crew members of the Stuart, Sophie and Mary, who are the loader and driver respectively, were still all cozy in their makeshift beds on the floor in their room.

"Have fun but I'm staying. I want to sleep in today." Sophie informed.

"Same here." Mary added, still half-asleep.

"I'll go with you." Olivia said.

Her smile now greater, Mia reached for a pamphlet on the bed.

"Awesome. I know the bus we need to take to get us there. Let's go."

Mia and Olivia left their room and walked toward the elevator which took them all the way down to the lobby. All the doors they past housed their fellow team members. One of which was the T-44 crew. They were all awake. Heather, Ashley, and Emma were huddled around Valarie as she was writing on a piece of paper.

"Now that you're all up to speed, any of you got any suggestions to beef up this objection that's not already written down?" Valarie asked.

"Um, I'm guessing that we can't just say we like Miss Buchanan and that's why we object?" Ashley meekly suggested.

"I'm afraid not."

They all sighed.

"This can't be allowed to happen. The whole team loves her. If she's gone _everyone_ will hate it." Heather remarked.

"No one indeed." Ashley added.

"Valarie, mind going over what you've got?" Emma asked.

"Sure."

Valarie cleared her throat and read aloud what she wrote.

"We, Mojave Rose High School, issues a formal objection to the proposal by the American Tankery Association to modify the criteria for tankery instructors as listed in rule fifty-seven, section six, item 'J'. We view the proposed modification, to make said instructions stricter, as needless. Our reasoning is as follows; One…"

She was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Oh! That's Ray." she said as she walked over to open the door.

He entered in with some papers of his own.

"Good morning guys. I've got some things to share."

"That's good 'cause we're out of ideas of what else to add." Emma admitted.

Valarie passed her paper over to Ray who reviewed it quickly.

"This is good stuff but I see that you didn't mention the time frame of implementation."

"What do you mean?" Valarie questioned.

"I've looked at the past decade of Rules Committee actions. Specifically, to learn who soon rules that are adopted go into effect. From what I've seen, the rule currently being proposed is unprecedented. If it passes, then it goes into effect two weeks from tomorrow. All the other rules I've studied have a _minimum_ of three months before they are adopted. Some even a year."

"Two weeks…" Valarie echoed.

"Schools who are affected by this will just have two weeks to find a new instructor."

"That can't be enough time, can it?" Ashley wondered.

"No it's not. Remember when the school's physics teacher suddenly retired? How long until a replacement was found?"

"Months. The sub was cute though, even though he wasn't really good." Ashley said.

"That's beside the point."

"Yeah, yeah." Ashley responded, slightly blushing.

"I feel like this time frame is a good angle. This should be the main point that we hammer in." Ray suggested.

"Agreed." Valarie said.

The five of them worked on their formal objection. Today for them will be a working day, even though for all them they expected their time at the convention to be a vacation. It was their spring break after all. While it didn't pan out that way, none of them complained. This was something worth doing. To help someone that they trust and appreciate.

* * *

There is nothing quite like the aroma of a freshly-brewed cup of coffee. It soothed the soul and awakened it at the same time. And what was better than the aroma than the taste itself. Buchanan enjoyed her coffee with a healthy helping of cream. The bitterness reduced but not removed. Just having a ghost of a presence. Each sip tasting rich and smooth. She needed this drink now more than ever. Tomorrow would decide if she would remain an instructor or not. At a little café in the convention, she sat on a table. On it was a small collection of notes. Across from her was Redwood, enjoying a chai tea.

"I don't know why but I'd thought you'd get a black coffee." Buchanan noted.

"I like drinks with flavors, thank you very much."

"That makes two of us."

Buchanan picked up one of her notes to review them.

"The last time I've been so formal with my writing was in high school. Frankly, I'm surprised my handwriting is still pretty good."

"So, do you think what we got will suffice?" Redwood inquired.

Buchanan thought silently for a moment.

"With what we have and whatever Valarie and Ray are cooking up? I don't know."

"You're not exactly oozing confidence here."

She let out a frustrated sigh.

"Martin. You and I both know that this whole thing is retaliation against me. They won't be fair. They're going to do everything they can to push through their proposal. So, I'm sorry that I'm not super confident right now."

"I know. I know. I believe you but using retaliation as an argument won't get us anywhere unless we got ironclad proof."

Buchanan rubbed her forehead.

"Proof. How the Hell do we get that."

Redwood shrugged. Buchanan took another sip of her coffee. She rummaged through the pile on the table and fetched a paper that was yellow with age.

"What's that?" Redwood inquired.

"A press release. Dated 1991."

"Interesting. Why did you hang on to that?"

"It was from the ATA. It walked about the defective carbon protection and how they resolved the issue."

"I see."

"It's bullshit, I can feel it."

"What makes you think? Don't you think what happened to in 1990 was an isolated incident?"

"Isolated? Sure. But I don't believe them for a second that they did anything about the carbon protection. They only put out that release for good PR. I can feel it that that's all they did."

"Hmm. That would explain why the SU-100 had its lining replaced with the old version, before the new formula, that was prone to defects. They had a large supply of the stuff. Rather than get rid of them, it would be much easier for them to silently still use them."

"Precisely."

"But there's got to be something more to that."

"Could be. Now, what' I'm saying is just a theory. I don't have all the details to make a better one, but hey, crazier things are true."

"A good theory demands good proof."

"No kidding."

They were both looking down at the table, thinking.

"In any case, I believe what we have is enough. We've dealt with poor odds before and come out on top."

Buchanan finished her coffee and then stood up.

"Guess so. I'm going to walk about the convention hall. To give it another look around. I'll catch up with you later."

"Alright then. See you later."

Buchanan walked away down a nearby staircase. Redwood compiled all the notes in a neat fashion and stored them in a binder. He remained sitting at the table. Stressed over what tomorrow will bring.

* * *

Not even inside the building and already was Mia nerding out.

"Look…look at that!" Mia exclaimed, face pressed against the bus window.

"A replica of space shuttle _Independence _on top of a real NASA 905 shuttle carrier!

The moment the bus stopped, Mia bolted out of the door, with Olivia moving quickly to catch up. The two girls were before the huge display, its size making them feel real small.

"So, this shuttle carrier, what does it do exactly? Does it fly real high and then the shuttle launches from it to space?" Olivia asked.

"No, no. That would destroy the plane. All space shuttles launch from the ground. The purpose of the carrier was to transport the shuttle around the nation. It was also used to test the shuttle's aerodynamics."

"Wow. I bet it handles like a dream." Olivia remarked.

"It doesn't actually. It's a brick that can miraculously do spaceflight."

"…woah."

"Let's head inside!"

The pair walked to the entrance. Mia slowed her walk as she got closer to the double-doors. Approaching a place filled to the brim with history. She felt this heavenly aura emanating from within that entranced her. Olivia found her behavior highly amusing. Her entertainment for today won't be looking at all the exhibits, but rather, but looking at how Mia reacts to everything. They opened the door and was greeted to a large room with hallways branching out in different directions. In the room they stood, it was filled with fascinating displays.

"Ah! There!"

Mia grabbed Olivia's hand and led her to an exhibit for Mars. The wall around them proudly showed photos of the red planet. Some were from satellites, silently orbiting overhead. The images displayed the planet in all its glory. One showed the poles, covered with water ice. Making for a great contrast compared to the soft rust color that covered the rest of the world. Two small objects can be seen orbiting the planet. Mars' moons, Phobos and Deimos. Other photos were from the small army of robots that currently populate the planet. They sent back exquisite pictures of the Martian landscape. Barren and devoid of anything remotely related to life. Though, no one could really say that Mars was a dead planet. Not until boots were on the ground to verify. That's the future. A future that Mia will hopefully get to experience as it happens. In addition to all the pictures, there was an interactive element. Firmly mounted to a pedestal was a rock. Reading the sign on it made Mia jump with joy.

"Wow! A rock from Mars!"

She touched it, shuddering as it did. It felt smooth in texture with a color a burnt brown.

"It's a meteorite." Olivia said upon reading the sign.

"From Mars to Earth. In five million years or it's free." Mia joked.

They shared a laugh. After a few minutes of what Olivia calls 'fondling', they moved on. They only moved a few steps before Mia stopped and was entirely captivated by every display they came across. An exhibit on the International Space Station. A display of a capsule from the Mercury program. Astronaut suits from all eras were shown behind large glass cases. The more of the space center that they explored, the more excited Mia became. She was taking a seemingly infinite amount of pictures with her phone. They walked around the space center when they soon found themselves in a gigantic room. Inside was just one item on display. And it was _massive_. The size of the thing dwarfed them. It was the most complicated machine ever created by human beings. The brainchild of Wernher Von Braun. The Saturn V.

"This thing is god-damn enormous!" Olivia reacted.

"Three-hundred and three feet tall. Six and a half million pounds when fully fueled. A payload capacity of over one-hundred thousand pounds. Over three million parts working in unison to send those who dared to the Moon."

Looking at Mia, Olivia noted she wasn't reading from a sign but reciting those facts from memory.

"The most powerful rocket ever launched, even to this day." she continued.

Mia felt weak at the knees as if the rocket before her was some god-like entity that demanded to be worshiped. And she would if no one was looking at her. They moved to the rear of the rocket. That was where Mia truly nerded out.

"S-one-C! The first stage of the Saturn V. Those engines…my God." Mia commented.

"They just scream _power_." Olivia said.

"Five Rocketdyne F-1 engines producing thirty-three thousand pounds of thrust. I can only imagine how it feels for the astronauts when they fired…it's must've felt amazing!"

Mia continued to gawk at the engineering.

"If you don't mind, I want to be here a while."

"Not at all." replied Olivia.

* * *

Back at the convention, among all the people going about their business exploring and experiencing every inch that the place has to offer. One particular person wasn't out and about. She very much preferred to sit at one of the many comfortable chairs dotted across the convention. Natalie wasn't in an exploring mood. Neither was she alone. While walking toward the chairs, she happened to come across Ray, where she demanded that he come sit with her. She wanted to talk about some things.

"Ray. Did the stuff that happened to you on Tuesday happen to your friends too?" she questioned.

"I asked them. They told me some girls they came across treated them coldly. But nowhere near the same level I got. It's clear that I'm getting the worst of it."

"It's not surprising, When they first found out about you, you were just the commander of the IS-3. Now, they've also learned that you're the team's co-captain. They probably think you stole that position."

"Is that what you thought once?" Ray asked suddenly.

Natalie felt a rush of unease. She nervously played her black hair, looking away from him, waiting for her response. She took in a deep, slow breath.

"…yes. I did. I'm sorry."

Ray put on a little smile.

"It's okay. I've already forgiven you. And I'm willing to forgive them too as long as they apologize."

"Do you honestly think they will? I've met them too and from what I've seen, they look like they're on the warpath."

"I do. In fact, I think it will happen. Maybe it will be tomorrow. Or five years from now. No matter how long, one day they will apologize and I'll be more than happy to accept."

"So, you don't hate them?"

"No, I don't. I don't hate anyone. I never hated you even during the day the team first met when you yelled at me."

Natalie smiled softly. Internally, she was greatly impressed by Ray's perspective of the whole situation. He was more gentle than she realized which made her feel all sorts of feelings that she needed to figure out later.

"Well, you're a better person than me. I mean, really, don't you hate anything?"

Ray pondered for a moment.

"I do hate wasted food."

Natalie chuckled.

"Ah, that's not shocking at all!"

Both of them were smiling and were reclining in their chairs. For a few minutes, they enjoyed the relative calm of the area they were in. In front of them was a large window. The storm outside has not let up. The window had water constantly flowing down the glass. With careful ears, they could hear the individual raindrops rapidly colliding with the window. It all made for a pleasant ambiance. Natalie then remembered one more question to ask.

"You ever mention to Valarie what has happened to you?"

"No."

She was taken aback.

"What? Why not?"

"There is something important going on right now. She doesn't need another thing to worry about."

"What do you mean? What's going on?"

"Um…well…." he hesitated.

"Tomorrow, there is this rules committee. They will decide whether or not to adopt a rule from the Association. If it passes, then Miss Buchanan can no longer be our instructor."

"No way. What is being done about this?"

"Valarie, her friends, and I have been spending the better part of the day drafting up some arguments against the rule."

"So, do you think you all have done enough?"

Ray sighed.

"Truthfully, I don't know. I feel like we're missing something but have no idea what."

He looked forlornly at the window.

"We don't want to let Miss Buchanan down, but…"

He trailed off.

"…have we done enough?"

* * *

Though there were some booths to waste a few minutes, overall, the convention didn't have much to offer to Buchanan. The whole point of going to the convention in the first place was to participate in the race. But now since that was done and dusted, she was now just looking for ways to occupy her time. She didn't mind that there wasn't much for her to do. The convention was always geared for tankery athletes anyway. Her walk around did eat up some time and she did convince herself that her walking counted as exercise. She would have rejoined with Redwood by now so they could hang out but a text from him informed her that he was busy. He was with officials to talk about the process of awarding the team awarding them the Panther II. A whole bunch of paperwork. Better him than her. Redwood actually liked that kind of stuff. Buchanan soon grew tired of walking as she was now going in circles. She ascended some nearby stairs and rested against a railing, overlooking the ground floor. Behind her was an auditorium with some event going on. She didn't care enough to learn exactly what it was, but what she did know was that it was loud. Every once and awhile, people would enter and exit the auditorium. The open door briefly releasing the cacophonous noise of young girls cheering and yelling. A woman around her age left the auditorium and walked over to the railing and rested against it as well. She was not too far from her. They glanced at each other, acknowledging the other's presence. Small talk ensued.

"That sure is loud. What's going on in there?" Buchanan asked.

"An introduction to tankery presentation." the woman answered.

"Introduction? Well, I guess you're never too old to get into the sport."

The woman let out a small laugh.

"Ha, no, no. It's for my daughter. She's interested in the sport so this thing is perfect for her."

"Uh huh, why is it so loud though?"

"Simply put, teenagers are loud."

"Oh, I understand that one-hundred percent."

"You got kids of yourself?"

"Yeah, like thirty plus."

The woman looked at her bewildered.

"Not biological kids, of course. They're my students."

The woman relaxed.

"Heh, you had me for a second there. You must be an instructor."

"MmmHmm. No better job out there."

"Oh I bet. Do you mind helping me out, since you're an instructor and all?"

"I'd be happy to."

"Great. You see, for the past year my daughter has developed this interest in tankery and I have my reservations about it."

"How so?"

"Ah, you see…I used to do the sport myself when I was younger. It ended badly to put it lightly. I fully understand the benefits of the sport but…I don't know. I'm worried she'll be in the same situation I was in long ago."

"Hmm. I need a bit more information."

The woman thought for a second.

"It's about safety. Has it improved since, say, 1990?"

Buchanan felt her heart jolt. 1990. Was the woman just picking a year at random and it was just one hell of a coincidence? Or was it something else? Her mind raced with possibility.

"Unfortunately, things have remained the same in regards to safety."

"Oh. That's not what I wanted to hear."

"I feel the same way. During my time at this convention, I've only met a pitiful amount of instructors who do more than rely on the carbon protection for safety. For myself, I made first-aid kits that are in all of the vehicles, trained firefighting, and practiced bailing out of our tanks in the event of an emergency."

"That's amazing. I wish those things were mandated. It would make me feel a lot better."

"I'm trying to make that happen."

"Any success?"

"None."

They let out annoyed sighs.

"At least you're trying." the woman comforted.

"Thanks. You know, something awful happened to me in my own time in tankery. It was because of that, that I do all those safety precautions. I just can't allow what happened to me happen to my students. If it does…God, I don't even want to think about it. It makes me shiver."

They both remained silent for a moment.

"Isn't that interesting…" the woman remarked.

"What's interesting?" Buchanan asked.

"That both of us had a bad experience in tankery."

"Bad isn't a good enough word for what happened to me."

"Do you…do you mind sharing what happened? If not, I totally understand."

Buchanan looked at her.

"I'll just keep it short. I nearly burned to death in my tank."

"Lord. That's just awful!"

"Oh, you have no idea. My tank had a defective carbon lining. A shot punched through it and penetrated the fuel tank, igniting it. My crew got out quick but the impact knocked me out. I came in and out of consciousness, feeling the heat growing more and more. I would've died out there had not one of my crew climbed on top of the tank and pulled me out. The ammo cooked off just seconds later."

As the woman heard her story, there was a tinge of anxiety that was festering and growing within her. A slight sweat was appearing on the back of her neck.

"A-absolutely horrifying. Um…where did this happen exactly?"

"The Mojave desert."

The woman felt as there was a lump in her throat. Her breathing quickened.

"Did you ever, uh, learn who shot you?"

Buchanan eyed the woman with curiosity.

"I learned who did not too long after. I still remember her name. Just the name though."

The woman relaxed a little.

"Ah, okay. So what happened to your Easy Eight after that?"

The moment the woman's words left her mouth, she was mortified. That was quite the slip of the tongue. Buchanan had turned her body toward her. Her face was one of shock.

"I never said what my tank was. The only way you'd know that was…"

Buchanan stepped closer to the woman, now visibly anxious.

"…if you were there."

The two women were looking at each other. The atmosphere between them was terribly tense. Buchanan looked directly into her eyes. She now knew that the woman's mention of 1990 was no mere coincidence. It was chosen specifically because the experience that they were both mentioned were one and the same.

"MacKenzie Conner." Buchanan uttered.

"It's uh…uh…Hayes now." the woman corrected.

"Marriage I'm assuming."

Buchanan's voice was devoid of all emotion. This unnerved Hayes, who was totally unsure over what she will do.

"The Jagdpanther gunner. Right before my eyes." Buchanan said.

Hayes stepped back but Buchanan got even closer.

"For ten minutes on that day, I thought I _killed_ you. I thought I killed your whole crew. I was hysterical. People tried to calm me down but how the Hell do you calm a person down after they think they've killed five people? That was the worst day of my life. I wanted to visit you in the hospital but I was terrified about how you would react to me being there."

Buchanan remained silent as she got right in front of her. Hayes didn't back-up anymore.

"If you're going to hit me, do it. Let me just say I'm _sorry_. I'm sorry that—"

Her voice stopped when Buchanan hugged her, surprising her beyond belief.

"It's not your fault…it's not your fault." Buchanan repeated as she wept.

In their embrace, they shed more than just tears. Years of emotional baggage was now gone. They both felt incredibly lighter. At long last, the closure that the two women were seek was finally achieved. They never would have guessed it would happen like this, or that it would happen at all. But it did and they were overwhelmingly relieved that it did. When they stopped hugging, they were both puffy-eyed and smiling.

"I didn't expect this to happen at a tankery convention." Buchanan commented.

"I know, right? The reason I'm here at all is weird actually. Maybe she can shed some light on it."

"I can try." said Buchanan, wiping her eyes dry.

"Okay, the other day I learned that I was invited to come here by a man named Martin Redwood. Does that sound familiar."

Buchanan crossed her arms.

"That's my boyfriend."

"Well, I'm betting then that our little encounter wasn't by sheer chance."

"Yup. Definitely was some intervention involved."

The doors behind the women swung open and out came a sea of teenage girls.

"Looks like the presentation is over. It's time for me to leave." Hayes said.

"I really enjoyed our chat. It was beyond productive. I feel amazing"

"Likewise. Um…mind if exchange numbers? I believe that it would be good for both of us."

"I like that idea."

They huddled together to share numbers.

"Thank you, Gabrielle. For forgiving me. I know it's not my fault…but I just wanted to hear it."

Hayes departed toward the crowd of girls, linked up with her daughter, and the two left out of Buchanan's view. Now alone, she reflected on what had just transpired. She had never felt so at ease in her entire life. She soon stopped leaning against the railing. A peek at the time told her it was nearing two o'clock. It wasn't late but decided to go back to her hotel room anyway. There, she will wait for Redwood to return.

* * *

The Saturn V sent Mia over the moon but that wasn't the main reason why she came to the space center in the first place. Following the signs, she made a beeline for one area in particular. She moved so fast that Olivia had difficulties keeping up.

"Slow down Mia! People are gonna look at us weird for running! It's not like whatever you want to see will move!"

Mia slowed her speed.

"Okay, okay. I'm just excited and all."

"So am I but no need for a sprint."

The girls continued followed the signs. Within a few minutes they had arrived. Just on the other side of a large pane of glass was a time capsule of the Apollo program. Mission control, looking as it did when the program was active. To Mia, the feeling in her body was akin to a religious experience.

"Just think of the history that happened in that room. I cannot even begin to imagine the emotions the people in there were feeling when Apollo 11 landed." Mia said.

Olivia looked at Mia, whose face was pressed against the window.

"It's pretty cool. Those computers look ancient and I kinda like how they look." she remarked.

"All the work done, stress endured, and problems solved. It amazed me that they made it all possible despite what seemed to be impossible odds. But they were tough. They were competent."

"So, tell me Mia, would you want to be an Astronaut or have a role in, uh, mission control?"

"You might assume I'd say astronaut because that's the job that has all the excitement and adventure. But honestly, I'd prefer to be in mission control. It speaks to me. Also, it's way roomier than a space ship."

The two looked at mission control for several minutes. Mia, in particular, was soaking it in. Who knows when she'll be back in Houston. She'll need to savor this as much as she can. Unlike all the other displays around the space center, she just took one picture of mission control. She only needed one as it was the best picture she has ever taken. She was so proud that she set it as the background of her phone. While on her phone, she happened to glance at the time.

"Ah, it's almost four o'clock." Mia said.

"Oh really? We've been here forever. Can we go?"

Mia looked at mission control one more time.

"Yes. I'm…satisfied."

They retraced their steps back to the entrance. Outside, the weather has ceased. The clouds were beginning break way and bits of the blue sky were seeping through. A calm breeze made its way through the area. Together, they waited for the bus.

* * *

In her hotel room, Buchanan was lounging in the bed. She had been alone for the past few hours. Redwood's business with the Panther II was taking its sweet time, apparently. The day had turned out in a way she had not expected, not in a million years. But it did and she was so happy. Her happiness, though, was tainted. She kept thinking about tomorrow. She didn't want this week to end on a sour note. Her mind was inundated with what she could do about the rules committee. If only she had proof of the Association's lies about the carbon protection, she would have what she needs to shoot down the proposal. But how to get it was beyond her. It frustrated her. She rubbed her face and shifted on the bed. She attempted to take a nap but her thoughts continued to gnaw at her. Stressed, she turned her body toward the door and waited.

And waited.

Until she heard the sound of someone unlocking the door. Redwood entered in.

"Hey, finished up with that Panther II stuff. It's now on its way to a train back to California."

"Nice. That includes ammo too?"

"It does. That saves some cash, eh?"

"MmmHmm. Say, Martin, I've met an interesting person today."

"Oh yeah? And who was that?"

"Just a woman named MacKenzie Hayes."

A flush of red appeared on his cheeks. He tried to eke out a sentence but no words materialized.

"And she said she was invited by you." Buchanan continued.

"Um…well… yeah. I did."

Buchanan rose from the bed and walked toward him. She held his hand and gave him a loving kiss.

"What you've done for me…I will never forget. I love you.

"I love you too."

The pair laid on the bed, right next to each other, hands held.

"How do you feel about tomorrow?" Buchanan asked.

"Ugh, I tried not to think about it. That Panther II stuff was a good distraction but on my way other here, I got to thinking about it. It stresses me the Hell out. For some reason, I fear that if the rule passes I won't be able to see you again but that's obviously not going to happen because it's not like you're going away or something, I can always see you no matter what happens. Then there's the match coming up later in the month, and then I got all my other responsibilities with the school—"

Buchanan laid a finger on his mouth.

"We're both stressed."

She rolled on top of him and played with his hair.

"I know the perfect stress reliever."


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation is brewing, and the ATA is not ready for it at all.

_Friday, April 12th 2013_

The final day of the convention has arrived. A day for some hoped to be filled with good times, but instead, those same people will be in a partially formal setting. Today, prominent former tankers will convene in a room in the convention where they will hear the rule proposal set forth by the Association. Not only will this rules committee come together, but also the team captains of the schools who have attended the convention. They serve as representatives of the nation's tankery athletes. They have no vote, only to share their opinions for consideration by the committee. In a hotel room, some young teens got ready. Valarie and Ray were dressed in their uniforms, freshly ironed.

"Only two reps per school, so it's just going to be me and Ray." said Valarie.

The rest of the crew were dressed much more casually.

"Okay, but if you need anything, we're just a text away." Emma said.

"Thank you very much."

Valarie and Ray left the room, with Ray carrying a small binder of notes. As they were waiting for the elevator, he had an unrelated question that he was dying to know the answer too.

"So, are you and Emma now—"

"Dating? Yes." Valarie finished

A huge smile formed on his face. An infectious one.

"Congratulations." he said.

"Thank you. I'm curious, Ray, are you, uh, taken?"

"Taken?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Oh. Not right now. I'm not sweating over it though. Dating is not a thing you should rush into"

"But you've dated before, yeah?"

Ray put his hands behind his back. Out from his mouth escaped an embarrassed laugh.

"Um…no."

"Really?"

"Yeah, as I said, I'm in no rush."

The elevator arrived and its doors opened.

"Alright, I can understand that. I won't tease you over it."

The pair boarded the elevator, which took them down to the lobby. In another of the hotel, another person was preparing for today. Though she had neglected to pack clothing remotely close to formal, thankfully the person she was sharing the room with did. Redwood was more than happy to let Buchanan to wear some of his clothes for today. Her attire was a white dress shirt with a black tie affixed to her neck. For the bottom portion was navy blue slacks. Her ashy blonde hair was then put in a pony tail. A view in the mirror revealed a totally different person.

"I've never looked so professional in my life." she remarked, amazed.

"It's a good look. A damn good one." Redwood complimented.

"Well, it is your clothes so there is some bias here. Still…"

She struck a pose in the mirror.

"I do rock the outfit."

Buchanan looked at the time.

"Twenty minutes till it starts. I'm off."

Redwood rose from the bed he was resting from and went toward Buchanan to give her a warm embrace.

"It's all going to turn out fine in the end. I can feel it." he said, stroking her hair.

The two looked at each other and exchanged kisses.

"Thanks, Martin. I hope this week can end on a high note."

With that, she left the room, out of the hotel, and toward the convention. Redwood would remain in the hotel room. Her departure started a long wait. Before the sun would set today, her future will be decided.

* * *

Away from all the booths and attendees was a section of the convention that was dedicated to being a place where meetings could be held. Outside a set of doors was a group of people. The representatives of the schools composing of two people, the captain and co-captain. All of them were wearing their uniforms. Ray and Valarie were among the last to arrive, the group chatting among themselves.

"This is it." Valarie said.

"Is it weird that I'm having the same feeling right before a match?"

"No, I feel it too. This is going to be a tough one."

One of the group took notice of their presence and walked toward them. It was a person that Valarie had met before.

"Ah, I would have never guessed that when last met, that I had the pleasure of meeting the captain of Mojave Rose."

"It never came up." Valarie said.

"Of course! A mistake on my part. Another mistake is not introducing myself when we first met. Let's have a do-over, shall we? My name is Penelope Hathaway and I am the captain of Molly Pitcher's tankery team."

"Valarie Woodlin."

"Hmm. Woodlin." Penelope mused.

"That's a rare surname if I ever heard one"

"It is. People all my life told me they have never heard of my last name before."

"Well, I will most certainly never forget it then. Considering its rarity."

Penelope noticed Ray, his eyes scanning her.

"Something has certainly caught your eye." she said to him.

"Your uniform. It's beautiful."

Molly Pitcher's uniform was custom made just for them. They resembled the uniform of American revolutionary soldiers. The center was a striking red with genuine gold buttons. The sleeves were a dark blue with the cuffs the same red as the center. What sealed it all together was the two white sashes worn over each shoulder, forming an 'X' over the body.

"A wonderful design, isn't it? Since my school is located in Boston, how our uniforms would look was fairly obvious."

"Oh it is. Great execution. Perfectly represents the history the area you're from."

"Why thank you. I'm always glad to hear people appreciating our uniforms."

"I always appreciate history."

"Well, that's just fantastic. Take care now you two. Oh, and, congrats on the Panther II."

Penelope walked away and rejoined with her co-captain.

"She's nice, isn't she?" Ray remarked.

"What's wrong with _our _uniforms Ray?" Valarie asked, her voice having the faintest trace of anger.

"Um…nothing at all? I never said they were bad?"

"I never heard you say our uniforms are great. Are they too bland for you?"

"Bland? No! These are genuine WWII-era American tank crew uniforms! Our uniforms are badass!"

Valarie crossed her arms.

"I just wanted to hear it."

From around the corner, another arrival. Ray and Valarie didn't recognize her at first, but once she got closer, it was clear who it was.

"Miss Buchanan? Woah, you look stunning!" Valarie commented.

Buchanan blushed slightly.

"Yeah? This get-up does suit me very well. Anyway, the meeting hasn't started yet, right?"

The doors nearby opened and people made their way inside

"It just has." Ray said.

"Alright, I'll just be outside if you need me. Good luck you two. I don't want to put too much pressure on you, but my job is on the line here."  
With solemn nods, Ray and Valarie walked into the room to attend the meeting. Soon, the outside became quiet as everyone, save for Buchanan, had entered the room. Alone, she sat on a chair against the wall. The stillness in the air matched the feeling of being in a hospital. Uncomfortable. Unnerving. A spark of dread. She felt a chill. This wait was going to suck and is going to feel like it's going to go on forever.

* * *

In their room, Heather, Ashley, and Emma were passing the time watching television. They weren't really focusing on what was being played, it was just for noise. They were all on their phones. They were teenagers after all. Though they were on their devices, it didn't mean conversation was nonexistent. They chatted. The main topic that kept popping up was the rules committee and what else they could do to help.

"There's gotta be something else we can do to help, but what exactly?" Emma wondered.

"We helped with the argument as much as we could with the argument. We worked with the information we had. I guess if we had info the Association had, that could lend us a hand."

"Having their info…" Ashley echoed in a whisper.

She slowly rose from the bed, which she had immediately called dibs on when Valarie left the room.

"Their info…insider stuff." she uttered.

Ashley looked toward the closet in which her uniform was dangling from a hanger. She had a brainwave.

"Heather. Did you happen to bring a sewing kit?" Ashley asked.

"I always have them with me."

Ashley ran toward the closet and got out her uniform.

"What are you doing?" Emma questioned.

"I just figured out a way to help. Heather, could you please remove the sponsor patches on my uniform?"

Heather looked at Ashley briefly with confusion but then smiled as she quickly figured out what she had in mind.

"I can do that no problem."

She got Ashley's uniform and got out her kit and set out to work. Emma remained puzzled over what was going on.

"I'm lost. What's your plan?"

"The uniforms of ATA officials look pretty damn close to ours. So, my plan is to modify my uniform to look like theirs and sneak into their offices at the convention to find any info that could help us out."

Emma stroked her chin.

"Devious. I love it."

"A uniform will help but you'll need more than that." Heather remarked, her hand steady with a needle.

"What do you mean?" Ashley asked.

"The people in those offices will probably be very suspicious if a sixteen-year-old girl is suddenly walking around their area."

"I'll just say I'm an intern."

"That may work but it's better to be safe than sorry. You'll need to look older."

"Um, how?"

"Make-up."

"Make-up? Ah, I don't think that—"

"Emma, in my bag is some make-up that'll do the trick. Mind fetching it and applying it on her?"

"Now wait a second!"

Emma gleefully searched Heather's bag and got out her make-up. She turned to face Ashley with a smirk.

"If you can please, Ashley, follow me to the bathroom."

"Oh…Christ."

The two girls went to the bathroom.

"Hold still now. I don't want to make a mess on your face.

"Just get it over with." Ashley dejectedly said.

At once, Emma applied the make-up. She was having way too much fun with it as she was giggling non-stop, much to Ashley's annoyance. Bags were added under her eyes. Wrinkles on her forehead, and cellulite dotted on her cheeks and chin. Once done, Emma leaned back, as an artist would after finishing a masterpiece.

"Perfect. Take a look."

Ashley turned around to look at her reflection and gasped.

"Oh my God! I look so old!"

"That's the point."

"I think you've overdone it."

"Mmm, don't think so."

Ashley sighed and left the bathroom.

"How's the uniform coming along?"

"I went on my phone to look up the ATA's uniform to use as a reference."

She turned to show them her work.

"How'd I do?"

Heather's skill with the sewing needle has once again stunned Emma and Heather. On the chest area was the insignia of the American Tankery Association, an eagle with tank rounds in one claw, tank tracks in the other.

"That looks like the real deal! Amazing!" Ashley exclaimed.

Heather was beaming with pride.

"This will put my cosplay skills to the test."

Ashley was returned her uniform where she eagerly put it on. Once it was done, they reviewed.

"Alright is that all? You guys think I'm ready?"

"Oh! One last thing!" Emma said.

She went to a close-by cabinet and got out a clipboard. She then got some paper to put some on.

"You need a prop."

"Good thinking. Okay, I'm going."

Ashley reflexively put on her personal rounded sunglasses, tinted red.

"That's good Ashley. Older women who are insecure wear sunglasses to hide their age." Heather joked.

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

The room where the rules committee met was unbelievably quiet. Its walls acted as excellent soundproofing. The representatives sat at tables arranged in a semi-circle with a few feet separating them. Ahead of them was a larger table where officials of the Association sat. At the front of the room was an elevated stage where the members of the rules committee were situated. Everyone was in the process of getting settled in. Valarie and Ray sat at a table near the edge of the semi-circle. Once settled, they look around at their fellow representatives.

"All these schools can't still be in the tournament? Some of them must've already been eliminated." Ray said.

"No. You don't have to be in the tournament to be here."

"Hmm."

Ray continued looking at the other people in the room. As he went person-to-person, busy with their own notes, there was one individual that made him shudder. She was staring directly into his pupils. Just across from where they sat, was her. The one who harassed him. The one who did the worst of it.

"Damn…" he muttered under his breath.

"What that Ray?" Valarie asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just a cough."

A member of the committee tapped on her microphone, the sound echoing throughout the room. It seized everyone's attention.

"Good morning, representatives. Welcome to the fifty-ninth meeting of the rules committee. We are very pleased over the attendance for this year. The agenda for this year was set forth by the ATA. They have submitted a proposal to modify rule fifty-seven, section six, item 'J'. To put it simply, what they are proposing is to enact stricter criteria on who can become a tankery instructor. The ATA will now explain their reasoning."

One of the ATA officials stood up from her seat.

"Representatives. Members of the committee. The Association in recent months, has been rethinking the way schools approach hiring instructors for their tankery teams. We've concluded that the current criteria are far too lax. It opens to doors for instructors who hasn't actively participated in tankery for some time. Such instructors do not possess relevant experience. We need to ensure that tankery teams across the nation only have the best quality instructors to choose from. As such, anyone who wishes to be an instructor should have been an active participant in tankery within the last three years."  
The official sat down. Another member of the rules committee clicked on her microphone.

"Representatives. Now is the time for you to voice your opinions regarding the proposal. Merely raise your hand to be called on, then state your name and school you are from."

No hands immediately raised. Sensing that now was the opportunity, Valarie shot her hand in the air.

"Yes, you."

"Valarie Woodlin from Mojave Rose. We object to the proposal introduced by the ATA mainly due to the fact that the time frame of implementation is unreasonable. Two weeks to find an instructor with the stricter criteria in effect? Fast food joints don't replace employees that fast."

"Your objection has been acknowledged. Any other schools who want to share their thoughts?" one the the members said.

One of the representatives, wearing a woodland camouflaged uniform, had a devilish smile on her face. Cassandra found Mojave Rose's objection revealing. It told her that should the proposal be adopted, they would be affected by it. It would hurt them. She has never really cared about this committee and anticipated it to be a boring affair. Instead, she was presented with a chance to deal a blow to Mojave Rose before their match with them later in the month. She spoke with her captain.

"Evelyn, I think we should support this proposal. It's a no-brainer, really."

"Really Cassandra? I dunno. The time frame Mojave Rose mentioned is short."

"Oh c'mon, two weeks is plenty of time. It's not like there's a shortage of qualified instructors in the country.

"Well, I need to think about it. There's loads of time in the meeting left. I'll make a decision soon."

Content, Cassandra reclined in her chair and eyed the table Mojave Rose sat. They were busily looking at the notes they've brought. Hopefully, it was all in vain, she thought. The room was filled with chatter among the representatives. Yet no more hands were raised.

"No one? Not to worry. There will be another opportunity to voice your opinions later. Now, it is time for the ATA to issue their rebuttal to the noted objection…"

* * *

Being the last day of the convention, the number of people present was staggering. It was clear that Friday would be the busiest day for the convention, an all-hands on deck situation. Officials were out and about to ensure that the final day went as smoothly as it can possibly can. A set of circumstances that Ashley was more than happy to exploit. She walked the convention floor with a purpose in her step. The key to success for any stealthy operation when infiltration was needed, was to act liked you own the place. No one would stop and question a person who looked like they were hellbent on going somewhere. Periodically, she would look at her clipboard to give off the idea that she was reading something. She felt calm at times but when walking past officials, she stopped breathing as they came near. They glanced at her and that's all that they would do. They didn't react abnormally. Pleased that her disguise was at the very least passing, she kept walking at a brisk pace. Soon, she had arrived in the administrative area of the convention. It was less populated and consequently quieter. The offices were here and Ashley could see the entrance to them. She remained a good distance away from it, to see how often go too and fro. She leaned nonchalantly against a wall and watched. Ten minutes elapsed and she had only seen two people, both leaving the offices. Some more waiting and no more people were seen. With a deep inhale she walked and entered the offices. She found herself in a room filled with cubicles. Within were computer stations, nearly all of them empty, save for a handful of officials working. The faint sound of typing keyboards and the hum of computers could be heard. The few people inside paid no attention to Ashley. Elated, she went to an empty cubicle whose opening was faced away from the door. She sat quietly on the chair, finding the computer before her was in sleep mode. With a shake of the mouse, the screen flashed on, presenting her with a log-in screen.

"Great…" she muttered

She looked around her immediate area. Ashley has been messing with computers during the past several years. In addition to having a passion for music, she has also developed a fascination with computers. So much so that she had built her own computer. Being well learned with the technology, she is keenly aware of common password storage habits. The first thing she did was lift up the keyboard. Tapped to its underside was a piece of paper. Written on it, it said,

_Password: tankery_

"What a strong, robust password."

She typed it in and was granted access. Upon seeing the desktop, she let out a small groan.

"God, you guys are still running XP? Are you too cheap to upgrade? Sheesh."

She began to snoop through the files. Internal memos were what she was looking for. The computer she was on was linked to cloud storage. Meaning that she had access to the innumerable amount of the ATA's internal data. The whole thing would've been more fascinating had the information she was shifting was even remotely interesting. An endless sea of boring, routine, day-to-day business. The thrill of being somewhere and doing something that she shouldn't be was being sapped by the mundane nature of what she was doing. Though she didn't let herself zone out. She slowly peeked her head above the cubicle to look around the office. The people she had seen before were still in their places, buried in their work. Sitting back down and resumed looking for anything useful. Some memos were found but not one was relevant. Ashley was paying particular attention to when these memos were dated, for surely any that could help the team would be ones created in recent months. She perused through more of them but nothing of note was found. A frustration was beginning to emerge. She closed her eyes to relax, then while blind, clicked on a file at random. When her eyes opened, they widened upon reading it.

"_As journalists apparently have a short-memory space considering that the question about the safety of the protective carbon lining continues to crop up, it remains imperative that ATA officials who come into contact with the press to say and only say the following in regards to the carbon lining._

_\- The only case of failure, ever, was in 1990_

_\- Since then, the ATA has worked closely with the manufacture of the carbon lining to improve it greatly._

_\- Tankery athletes today are safer than ever_

_Again, this only applies to ATA officials whose responsibility is to deal with the press. If your job description says nothing about dealing with the media, then the only thing you say when accosted by reporters is to tell them to speak with PR. And not a word more."_

Ashley thoughtfully reclined in her seat. She recalled during one of the team's practices, where they were repairing the then-newly arrived SU-100, that there had to be some maintenance done with its carbon lining. She didn't know the exact details. And then there was the mention of the year 1990. Upon thinking about it more, she then remembered another thing. One of the early meetings of the tankery team. Miss Buchanan's first day as an instructor. Her words to them still in Ashley's head.

"_Back in the ancient year of 1990, I commanded a Sherman M4A3E8 Easy Eight…During a match, my vehicle was hit by a round and due to a safety failure was set on fire."_

The failure that the memo reported must be what happened to Buchanan. The mention of the year couldn't have been a coincidence. She elected to search for memos dated to that year. It took some digging and some file-hopping, but now her work was beginning to bear fruit. The memos from back then weren't made on computers but rather written physically on a piece of paper. Only around the start of the millennium did these old memos get scanned to be stored digitally for archival purposes. Ashley went through them one-by-one. And, boy, did she find something. A title of one memo read,

"_Cost-saving measures to maintain the professional league."_

Reading on, she read something absolutely stunning.

"_The purchase of the redesigned carbon lining is to be temporarily halted as it is more expensive than the old protection with the original formula. This is expected to save $5.4 million per year which can be used to continue to fund the professional league."_

The professional tankery league that Redwood had told her about. The one that Buchanan worked so hard just to have a chance. The ATA truly did everything to save it, but couldn't. It was just too expensive. In 1994, the league was shuttered. Ashley opened other memos and found them to have information equally as juicy. A devious smile spawned on her face. Info like this for sure could help the team in some capacity. With a click, she started printing them out. She then left logged out of the computer and left the cubicle, going to the printer and waited. As she stood by, arms crossed, an official left her cubicle and headed her way. Ashley was instantly put on edge. Next to the printer was a fax machine, where the official approached and began pressing buttons.

"Can you believe it? Sending a fax in this day and age." the official said.

Ashley tuned her head to look at her, sweat forming on the back of her neck.

"Uh…tell me about. And these computers! Still running XP."

"I've told them again and again to upgrade to Windows 8, or at least 7, but nooo, it's too 'costly' and what we have is 'fine'."

"Isn't support for XP stopping next year?"

The official let out a laugh.

"All that means is that the ATA will wait till then upgrade. They'll still procrastinate."

Ashley noticed the printer had finished. She picked up the papers.

"Well, I gotta go, the usual you know?"

"I feel ya."

"Hey, thank God it's Friday, eh?"

"Thank the Lord indeed. Bye."

Ashley walked through the office and out the door. To her left, she saw an approaching group of officials, deep in conversation. She made a hard-right and walked calmly away. The moment she turned the corner, she bolted. She ran looking for a map. She had to find where the meeting was and get there as fast as she can.

* * *

"Now it is the time for the ATA to issue their rebuttal to the noted objection." a rules committee member announced.

She sat down and in the next instance, an official from the ATA stood up and cleared her throat.

"Miss Woodlin, the objection you have raised is entirely valid. The time frame of implementation, though, we see as reasonable. Yet it does not mean schools that affected by it are just left hanging out to dry. The Association will help such schools by providing them with a pool of qualified instructors for them to hire."

"Would this proposed rule apply to instructors who are just volunteering their services?" Valarie asked.

"Yes. This rule would apply to paid and volunteer instructors."

Valarie sunk into her chair. She turned to Ray.

"Man. This sucks." she said bringing her hands to her face.

Not really know what to say, he just patted the top of her head. A member of the committee then began to speak.

"As there is currently only one objection that the ATA has responded to, it is now time for a recess. Use this time to process all the information you've heard and form your final opinion. Feel free to leave the room but return in twenty minutes."

The representatives got up and left their tables and headed outside. Valarie and Ray lingered in their seats.

"So, uh, do you think we're getting anywhere with this?" Ray questioned.

"Ugh. No idea." Valarie answered in an unsure tone.

They got up from their seats and left the room. Outside was all the other representatives discussing their views about their proposal. The pair went to Buchanan sitting nearby. The look on their faces wasn't exactly reassuring.

"You guys don't have to say anything. It's not going well, huh?"

They nodded and sat down with her.

"Well, there is still a chance after this recess, though I won't hold my breath. Thank you both for trying. It means the world to me."

While they sulked, the other representatives were forming their thoughts.

"Okay, I'm convinced. We're supporting this proposal. It's for the greater good, after all." Evelyn concluded.

"Excellent decision. I'm sure in due time Mojave Rose will realize it was for the best." Cassandra remarked.

Elsewhere, a pair of girls were coming up with a decision as well.

"Mhmm. I don't particularly care about this proposal one way or the other." Penelope mused.

"Likewise. It seems so inconsequential. Do we have to voice our opinion?" Caroline asked.

"No, we could abstain."

"Let's do that."

Back in the meeting room, the ATA officials were happily awaiting the end of the recess.

"Things are going swimmingly. As we expected, Mojave Rose is the only school to issue an objection." Joanna commented.

"There is still time for another school to raise an objection." Martha brought up.

"Doubt it. I'm confident that our rebuttal will sway the schools to support us."

"Ah, good. This is basically settled business then."

Outside the room and people continued talking. The topics of discussion have moved beyond the proposal and were now about trivial things.

"One last chance once this recess is over." Valarie noted.

"Just gotta give it our all. Like in our matches." Ray said.

"Buchanan was about to say something but the sudden sound of someone running caught her attention. She looked down the hall where the sound originated. Coming barreling around the corner was Ashley. She ran toward them clutching papers, breathing heavily.

"Ashley? What are you doing here? And what's with your face?" Valarie questioned.

Ashley rose her hand in the air as she panted. Some seconds later and she recovered somewhat.

"My face? Nothing. Nothing at all. God…it's been too long since I've done cardio…mostly because it sucks."

She took some more breaths than waved the papers in her hand.

"I have something….that may help us out."

She passed the papers to Buchanan, who began to read through them. As she did, it compelled her to stand up. The emotions she was going through was akin to a whirlwind. And it was soon to be reaped. Her hands were twitching.

"Where did you get this?" Buchanan inquired.

"Ah, um, it's crazy! I was just walking around and bam! There they were! Just on the floor and everything! Lucky, huh?"

Buchanan didn't believe her for a second but didn't have the luxury of time to an interrogation on her. Besides, the information in her hands were ones she had suspected of existing for years. Now, she will now finish a part of her life that screamed to end.

"Guys, I've got this. I'll be right back." Buchanan informed.

She marched into the meeting room, the sound of her entrance making everyone within look at her direction.

"It's her." Beth whispered.

"I've got a bad feeling about this." Martha uttered.

Buchanan walked toward them with a slight smirk on her face.

"Would it be possible to have a little private meeting?" she asked, all innocent.

The three officials exchanged glances.

"Sure…we could do it here." Joanna said.

"Oh, I feel like for this particular meeting you all want a bit more privacy."

Buchanan revealed the papers in her hand to them. The three officials went pale.

"How…how did you get that?" Joanna demanded.

"It's irrelevant how I got it. The only thing that matters right now is if you want the rules committee to 'overhear' our conversation."

With only one option at their disposal, the officials stood up. They followed Buchanan into a sub-room within the meeting room, one that held conferences. Once they all sat down, Buchanan began speaking.

"Now, maybe you guys can explain a little discrepancy for me."

She reached into her pocket and got out an old press release.

"This press release dated October 1991 says that the issue of the old carbon lining has been resolved and that the ATA was purchasing the new linings with the new formula to distribute to all vehicles nationwide. Yet this memo dated the previous month, September, states that the purchase of new linings was halted. Hmm, what's up with that?"

The three officials were visibly uncomfortable. They were nervously touching their faces.

"Well, uh, you see…" Martha began.

"It was halted, but only temporarily. It was during a time where accounting was being overhauled. Making large purchases would complicate that process. We did resume purchasing the following year." Joanna explained.

"Then explain to me, how the Hell did my team's SU-100 get the old, prone to defects, carbon lining five years ago from a specialist partnered with the ATA?"

None of them said a word.

"I never knew a silence can be so loud. But you don't have to say a word. I know the truth. It was all a lie to save a few more dollars, at the expense of people's safety. What would it take for you people to give a fuck? Certainly not with what happened to me, that I know full well. You were so damn sure that what happened to me was a one-in-a-million occurrence that you foolishly convinced yourself that it can _never _happen again. We all know that you're only lying to yourself. We all know that there is at the very least a handful of tanks in the country whose linings are defective. It's only a matter of time for it to fail. And when it does, God, it will be worse than the failure that happened to me. When the next failure happens, you will have to face the hysterical parents of a daughter who is mutilated beyond recognition or so horrendously burned that all that remains of their child is her brittle, charred skeleton embedded in her ashes. And, for some fucking reason, you _still_ refuse to play ball, I've got a contact with the press who will gleefully spread this story like wildfire. So, will you play ball or will I have to give you one Hell of a strikeout?"

There was only one emotion that the three officials shared between them; fear. Joanna raised her hands.

"Okay! Okay…what do you want."

"The ATA will purchase the new lining in bulk and mandate that every vehicle in all the tankery teams across the nation be outfitted with them ASAP."

They were stunned.

"That is thousands of vehicles! All the tankery teams nationwide have more thanks than the U.S. Military! It can be done, but it'll take time."

"I want it done before Fall."

"Fall!? You do know there is a tournament going on, right? Our schedule is pretty busy right now!"

"I know. So, before Fall yeah?"

Flabbergasted, the officials began looking through their binders they had brought."

"We gotta…we gotta check the schedule."

"Take your time."

The officials spent the next several minutes scouring over the schedule to see where they could fit in Buchanan's demand. After much debate, they reached a solution."

"Alright. We found a time table where we could do it without interfering with the national tournament. It'll mean that every second between matches will be used to replace linings."

Buchanan grinned.

"Awesome. I'd knew you guys would manage to troubleshoot this thing."

"Yet, we must tell you that all this time replacing linings will go beyond the tournament, which ends in June, with expected completion by the start of July. It would mean that whoever wins the nationals will only have a month to get ready for the international competition, with its first match in August."

Buchanan couldn't stifle a laugh.

"My team only had weeks to go from essentially nothing to being match ready. Whoever wins the nationals will manage."

"Ugh, okay. That's that then." Beth remarked.

The officials stood to leave but Buchanan gestured to them to stop.

"Ah, no. I have some more ideas for your 'consideration'." she said.

Sighing, the three officials sat back down.

"Next, I would like you guys to mandate the inclusion of med-kits in tanks, along with fire-fighting and bailing-out training."

"Uh, okay. That's reasonable. In the next rules committee meeting we'll propose this and work to—"

"Ah ah ah. I believe an executive order from the president of the ATA would bypass the need to go through the rules committee. Wouldn't that be much faster, hmm?"

The officials looked totally defeated.

"Sure…that is an alternative to get those rules in place. It's…seldom used though."

"But in the name of safety, surely, the sooner the better?"

They merely nodded.

"Oh, and your proposal? Yeah, you're going to retract that."

Joanna remained silent, then swallowed.

"Fine."

Buchanan then stood up.

"You know what? I'll throw you guys a bone. You can stop with the settlement payments."

Bewildered, the three officials frantically looked for paper and a pen. Once found, they quickly wrote something down.

"If you're sure, _dead sure, _then we need this in writing."

"Gladly."

Buchanan was handed the hastily created contract and read aloud what she wrote.

"I, Gabrielle Buchanan, do hereby relinquish the settlement payments sent by the American Tankery Association."

She signed at the bottom and passed back the contract.

"Are we done here?" Martha questioned.

"Yes, we are. Goodbye."

Buchanan headed for the door.

"Wait! The memos!" yelled Joanna.

"Oh, I'm keeping them for collateral. When I see changes being made, I'll destroy them."

"How can we be sure you'll keep your word?"

"Easy. Just keep yours."

Buchanan left the room and went back outside. She called Ray, Valarie, and Ashley over to her.

"What happened? Did you convince them?" Valarie asked.

"Mission accomplished." Buchanan answered.

Instantly they cheered and exchanged high-fives. From afar, Cassandra watched, befuddled.

"What are they so happy about?"

Then, the doors opened and a member of the rules committee came out and addressed the representatives.

"Everyone, thanks to the persuasive arguments of Mojave Rose's instructor, the ATA has retracted their proposal. As their proposal was the only thing on the agenda, the meeting is now adjourned. Have a good day."

Cassandra was very upset.

"What bullshit."  
"Ah well, things remain the same I guess. Anywho, let's go eat, Cassandra. I'm hungry." Evelyn said.

The people left the area and dispersed. Buchanan spoke with her students.

"You've done so much for me today that I don't even know how to properly thank you."

"Don't worry about it, Miss Buchanan." Valarie said.

"No, no, I will thank you guys. Just gotta think about it. Anyway, I'm tired so I'm going back to my room. Remember that for tomorrow to meet at the lobby at ten in the morning to head back to the airport. For now, though, enjoy the last few hours of the convention!"

* * *

Redwood for the past few hours had tried to sleep but couldn't. Stress prevented him from fully relaxing. Buchanan had left her phone in the room so he couldn't call or text her to learn if things were going well. On the bed, he was restless, shifting around. He had a small headache and he had neglected to pack an aspirin. He took a deep breath and rested his eyes. He wasn't aware of how much time had gone by when he then heard the door being unlocked. When it was opened, Buchanan walked in. Her smile said it all. Redwood leaped from the bed and gave her a huge hug. The couple then shared a long kiss and with that, their time at the 2013 tankery convention has come to a satisfying ending.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new tank gets a new crew. And then there something a bit more...romantic.

_Sunday, April 14th 2013_

Being a week away from home and spending hours at airports and in the air, Emma was glad to be home, lounging on her comfortably warm bed. It was the late afternoon, the rays of the setting sun streaked across the room, and on her body. Thankfully these strips on light didn't hit her eyes, which would've prevented her from being in a state of relaxation. Just next to her bed was her bags, still filled with her clothes, as she had procrastinated in unpacking. As she laid in her bed, her mind was active with thought. She was thinking about the upcoming Tuesday. The 16th of April. Valarie's birthday where she would turn seventeen years old, one year shy of adulthood. Emma had spent much thought on Valarie's gift, her best friend, and now, the love of her life. She had decided early on that it wouldn't be just one particular thing. As it was Valarie's day, Emma was determined to make it memorable. She had written it down on a notebook how it will down. After reviewing it a few more times, adding a detail here and there, she smiled as she closed the notebook. Ashley and Heather had texted her earlier in the day to inform her that they had got their own gifts. Almost everything was in their places. All that remained was Valarie's physical gift. Thankfully for this part of her plan, she didn't have to go to the store to get it. Nor did she have to spend any money. It was just outside. She rose from the bed, left her room, and headed outside. Grabbing a pair of gloves along the way.

* * *

Redwood was spending his Sunday with Buchanan at her apartment. The couple was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking freshly brewed cups of coffee. The mood in the room was tranquil as the two enjoyed the other's presence. They chatted about various things, a topic that inevitably came up was her meeting with the ATA officials. The most dramatic meeting Redwood has ever heard of.

"So, sometime in the next few days, we can expect new safety rules to be enacted by the ATA president herself. I can only imagine the conversation those officials I 'persuaded' will have with the president. Awkward is not even a suitable enough word. And then there's the case with the carbon linings. All the vehicles of every tankery team is to have their carbon linings replaced with the improved version over the course of the next several months. It's going to be a busy time for maintainers, for sure."

"Amazing! You've accomplished all of that in one meeting! That must've been the most productive meeting in history. How do you feel?"

Buchanan sipped on her coffee.

"I feel like this should've already been done ages ago. But other than that? Pretty damn good."

On her lap, and has been the entire time, was Soap. Happily purring as she napped. With a free hand, Buchanan petted her.

"Though, that's not all that happened."

"Oh?"

"There has been a change with my monthly settlement. That is, they aren't monthly anymore."

Redwood became concerned.

"Gabby, what have they done with your settlement?"

"Not they, it was me. I gave up my settlement to sweeten the deal."

"Woah…"

The selfless act undertaken by Buchanan made Redwood love her even her financial future now in jeopardy, he was determined to help her in any way he could.

"Did you save portions of your settlement in a savings account?" he asked.

"I did. I was always paranoid that they would cut me off for whatever reason. So I put large chunks of my monthly cheeks in a savings account."

"Smart. How much do you have?"

Buchanan leaned back in her chair to think for a moment.

"Ah, last I checked I believe it was half a million dollars."

Redwood let out a whistle.

"Five hundred thousand. Looks like you'll be fine for a good long while."

Buchanan started to play with her hair.

"Yeah, ah, that money I'm saving is for a specific thing. And, uh, I'd like to not spend any of it."

"And what would that be?"

Her cheeks become red, a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment filling her mind.

"Um…." she hesitated.

She took a breath.

"I'll tell you if and when the time is appropriate. I'd very much appreciate if you'll respect that."

Redwood gently nodded.

"I will, I will. Now, since that half a million might is pretty much inaccessible, how's your financial state now?"

"I can deal with rent and other necessities till September. Maybe next year if I get really frugal. I don't know what to do after that."

Redwood set down his cup of coffee.

"No, no, no. A member of this team already had to endure a bout of homelessness and I'll be damned to let it happen to anyone else. Just move in with me and that'll take care of everything."

Buchanan was blindsided by his request.

"What? Are you being serious? You want me to live with you?"

"Completely obvious. Couples live together anyway, so this was inevitable anyway."

Buchanan's hand was trembling, which stopped when Redwood reached out to hold her held with a soothing gentleness.

"Move in with me, please?"

Buchanan glanced down at their hands. As a tear began to stream down her cheek, she squeezed her hand. It felt amazing to be loved.

"I will."

_Monday_

The first day back to school and there was a heavy excitement in the air. The tankery meeting for today will be a fun one and every member of the team was very much looking forward to the end of the school day. When the dismissal bell rang, they all made a beeline to the garage, a place they haven't been to in a week. The team congregated just outside the large entrance doors.

"It's in there, huh?" Emma asked.

"It should be." answered Valarie.

Mingling about the team were five new people, easily identifiable due to them not yet having their uniforms. The excitement among them was palpable. Everyone wanted to be inside the garage, not only to be reunited with their treasured vehicles, but to also acquaint themselves with a new one. The moment Buchanan made her arrival, the energy in the air increased. It was if the team were all crazed fans at a sports game. Buchanan was utterly amazed over the energy being displayed but can understand why. They all wanted to see their spoils.

"Just a sec guys. Mister Redwood is already inside and about to open the doors."

Several moments after she said that sentence, and the sound of machinery then filled the air. At a steady pace, the garage began to open. No one wanted to wait until the place was fully opened. Once the gap was big enough, they all flooded in. Dozens on heads looking in all directions to find the new arrival. One student then locked eyes on it, and pointed.

"There!" she yelled.

The team ran down the garage, near the end. There, all neatly parked, was the tank the team had won. It was perhaps the most modern tank any tankery team in the nation was allowed to have. A superb example of Patton Heavy Duty Engineering's craftsmanship. The Panzerkampfwagen Panther II.

"Good God. I can't believe that it's ours. Here, in this garage." Valarie uttered.

The team surrounded the vehicle and admired it. The most obvious thing about the machine was that it's turret and hull was painted differently. The turret simply had a red primer applied, giving off a 'rusted' look. The hull was more typical. Olive green and a yellowish-brown. The turret having only having a red primer was not an oversight, it was an intentional design choice. Patton Engineering wanted the Panther II to have that 'desperation' look. To make it look like it was rushed out of its factory and immediately sent combat. It was a look that everyone love, on top of the other aspects of the tank. An 88mm main cannon. A stereoscopic rangefinder, and of course, the nightvision equipment mounted on top of the turret and on the driver's position. Valarie, eager as all hell, climbed on the tank and opened the commander's hatch to take a peek inside. Its interior was immaculate. Never has she had seen the inside of a tank so free of wear and tear. Why it was so was an easy question. The Panther II was built in the previous year, to excruciating detail. The other vehicles of Mojave Rose were built decades before anyone on the team were even born. Many of them had actually seen combat in the Second World War. Being participants in such a devastating conflict, a conflict whose effects still linger to this day, it was impossible for them _not_ to have any type wear and tear. With going through hell and back, it was frankly surprising that they looked as good as they did, and with the Axis vehicles, survived the war at all.

"Alright, on to business then. To the people crewing this thing, please step forward." Valarie instructed.

From the team stepped forward five people. The more vulgar members of the team referred to new members as FNGs. Others, like Valarie, refrained from such word usage as they saw it as 'rude'. Valarie hopped off the tank to greet the new crew.

"I gotta say, I'm a bit envious. Crewing a vehicle like that? Super cool!"

Valarie took a good look at the new crew. One of them made her raise an eyebrow in subdued surprise. The Panther II crew was coed. Four girls and one guy.

"Head to your tank to get familiar with it. While doing that, assign roles and create a call sign. I'll give you a couple minutes."

The five new members eagerly went to their tank and began to explore it. The rest of the team tended to their vehicles as Valarie walked around to oversee. As she was walking about, she happened to go near the Jagdpanzer IV. Curious, and a little apprehensive, about Natalie's opinion on the new crew, she went over to her to ask.

"So. A coed crew. Watcha think about that?"

"Not angry. Not overjoyed. It's just a crew. I only hope they do their best." Natalie answered.

"So, you're not at all concerned that a guy will be in a confined space with four other girls, for hours on end?" Valarie mentioned.

Natalie thought about Valarie's question for several silent moments. She turned to look at the IS-3 and then back at her.

"No, I'm not. I don't think that way anymore."

Valarie gave her a huge smile and a pat on the back, which made Natalie feel a tinge of embarrassment. She then returned to the Panther II. There the crew were off the tank and back on the ground, chatting.

"All set? Valarie asked upon arriving.

They nodded.

"Nice. Who's the commander?"

One of them raised their hand and stepped forward. A girl of similar height to her, with black hair set in a pony tail. She was of Asian descent, but where exactly in Asia she descended from is a question that Valarie will have to delicately craft and ask. The last thing she wanted to do is to rub the new commander the wrong way.

"Hi! I'm Paige and I'm the commander. Oh, and to answer the inevitable question, I'm half-Japanese."

Well, that was easy.

Valarie reached out to shake her hand.

"Welcome to the team Paige. Mind introducing me to the rest of your crew?"

"Gladly."

Paige turned to present her crew.

"Esther controls the beast, Eli mans the gun, Melody gives him the means to spit fire, and Lily rides the radio waves."

"Ooh, I like you. Already getting creative with things. Now, what's your callsign?"

"Considering that our tank has night vision, I'd like to think our callsign is perfect. Call us _Owl_.

Valarie nodded approvingly.

"Lovely."

She then handed Paige the team's playbook. Read this to get up to speed. You've got a lot of material to catch up on."

"Wow, did you write all of this?"

"Ha, no. Everyone on this team has contributed to it in some way."

"That's cool." Paige commented as she began to flip through the playbook.

Valarie remained standing where she was as Paige was busy reading. She wanted to ask her a potentially odd question.

"Say Paige, you ever been to Japan?"

Paige looked up from her reading.

"MmmHmm. Twice to visit my mom's family."

"Neat. Have you even been to, uh, Ooarai?"

Paige gave her a puzzled look.

"No, I haven't heard about that place. Is there anything special about it?"

"Ah, it was just a random question. Carry on getting familiar with your tank. Practice is on Saturdays."

Valarie walked off and went to be finally reunited with her T-44. There, her crew had already finished what little maintenance they had to do today. Sat in the driver's seat was Heather, visibly happy to be in the place she loved to be. Ashley was laying on top of the turret, doing what she does best, dozing off. Valarie climbed on top of the tank and entered through the commander's hatch. There within was Emma, in her gunner's seat checking the calibration of the gun sight. When the two were together, they clasped hands. The privacy provided by the T-44's fighting compartment made it so the young couple could do couple things even during the team's meeting. They were anxious about being more public with their relationship. Mainly because by going public, they would invariably be the center of attention and get bombarded with teasing and jokes. Not only the general banter of them being in a relationship but a lesbian relationship at that. They already had to deal with Ashley's teasing and occasionally with Heather. Earlier in the day, in her chemistry class, Ashley and Valarie and partners on an assignment. As they worked, it reached a point where some cutting was involved and Ashley went to fetch some scissors. When she returned, Ashley looked at the scissors and then at Valarie. She did this multiple times, laughing, to a point where she had to go out of the room to catch her breath. Valarie asked incessantly what she found funny but Ashley refused to explain. Later during lunch, Valarie would ask Emma if she could figure out why Ashley was laughing. It took a moment but then Emma blushed and laughed herself. She too wouldn't tell Valarie what was funny. Valarie was so annoyed, but now, with them just together in the turret, they were at peace. Especially since tomorrow was a special day for a special someone.

"I wonder who's day it is tomorrow…" Emma playfully mused.

"Hmm, I wonder indeed." Valarie echoed.

They gazed into each other's eyes.

"It's my day, isn't it?" Valarie asked.

"Your day." Emma said, stroking Valarie's hair.

"What do you have in store for me?"

"A fun day, I can guarantee that. It will end with a night at the movies, if the meeting tomorrow doesn't drag on for too long."

"The movies? I love it already! It's classic."

"A classic move and they are playing classic movies. Nineties monster movies to be exact."

"Monster movies? My birthday keeps getting better! What else do you have planned?"

"I'm not spoiling anything. Other than, don't pack a lunch."

"Oooh, will you be feeding me like the queen that I am?" Valarie teased.

"I will if you are being serious." said Emma.

Valarie's face then put on a tint of red

"I,uh…um…I wasn't serious…for now anyway. I-I'll keep it in mind, though."

Emma laughed softly and brought Valarie's face closer to hers.

"You're so cute when you're all flustered. And you are my queen."

She kissed her with passion, which Valarie returned fully. What at first was just a brief and loving kiss soon turned into making-out. Their kissing intensified and they were cuddling. They spent several minutes in their own romantic bubble. They became so oblivious that they had totally forgotten that Heather was in the driver's seat, whose pale face was red as hell, quietly climbed out of her position and gingerly closed the hatch. Ashley looked down at her.

"Hey, Heather, we got enough ammo in the racks yeah? You know what, I'll just check…"

Ashley moved to open the loader's hatch when Heather frantically motioned her arms to stop.

"Ah, ah…no need to check! We're all lock in loaded here. Ha…ha…"

Puzzled over Heather's behavior, she rested her ear against the roof of the turret. A huge smile erupted on her face.

"Yeah. I think we're good with ammo. No need to…interrupt."

_The Next Day_

_Boston_

_Molly Pitcher_

Across the continent, Molly Pitcher was in a similar situation with their tankery team receiving a new crew. Penelope being the dutiful captain she was, gave the new commander a tour of the team's massive garage. As the school was extraordinarily wealthy, it could afford a mini-army's worth of tanks. So much so that had the ATA not have a rule that limits the number of vehicles a school can field in a match, schools like Molly Pitcher would've been allowed to take a page from the Soviet Union's playbook and utterly overwhelm their opponents with armor. Penelope actually liked that rule as it forced her to be creative and strategic when creating plans for matches. With the new commander walking beside her, Penelope concluded the tour with them stopping in front of a Luchs, a variant of the Panzer II.

"And now, here's your machine. The speedy little Luchs with a cute 20mm autocannon. It will serve you, and the team, well."

With hands held behind her back, the new commanded approached her tank to inspect it. Se liked her machine, though she had a question that had been on her mind since the tour started.

"I'm curious Penelope. I hope, maybe, you can help me understand something."

"Sure."

"We're in Boston. A city where important events of the American Revolution took place. The name of our school, Molly Pitcher, refers to the women who fired guns and cannons when their husbands dropped them during the war. Our uniforms are heavily inspired by the ones worn by American Revolutionary soldiers. I'm just curious as to why this school doesn't operate exclusively American tanks."

Penelope smiled. It was a question she had heard many times before and always enjoyed answering.

"Yes, It would be highly appropriate for this school to just drive and shoot American tanks. But believe me, all the foreign tanks we have weren't chosen arbitrarily. They represent the nations involved in the conflict."

Penelope then pointed to a tank.

"Churchill. British tank. They were our main adversary."

She then pointed to another.

"ARL 44. French tank. Without the help of the French, this country wouldn't exist today."

The new commander nodded in understanding. All the pieces fit together. Well, almost all of them.

"Okay, okay, I can see what you mean with the British and French tanks. But where does Germany fall into all of this? They weren't a full country back then."

"Ah, our German tanks represent the Hessians!" Penelope exclaimed.

"Hessians?"

"Auxiliary units used by the British Army that hailed from Hesse-Cassel and Hesse-Hanau. But hey, if you traveled back in time to say they aren't German, they'd viciously disagree."

"Aaah, I see. Pretty cool to represent players of that war." the new commander remarked.

"There is another reason why we use foreign tanks." spoke a new voice.

Turning toward the source of the voice, it was revealed to be Caroline heading their way. Penelope laid a hand on the new commander.

"Mavis, this is Caroline. She's the co-captain."

"Oh, hello. So, what's the other reason?"

"Different countries have different tank doctrines. For example, a medium tank in one country will have different characteristics and roles compared to a medium tank in another. Just look at the American Sherman and the German Panther. Both are medium tanks but excel in different things. If I wanted to snipe targets from afar, I'd be in a Panther. But for more close quarters, I'd love to be in a Sherman with a 105mm howitzer. You see, having tanks from different nations gives us variety which is an excellent advantage."

Caroline walked a bit away, approaching a tank and tapping on its hull repeatedly.

"All the nations in the world have built impressive machines, but personally, none had made more impressive tanks than Germany."

The tank that Caroline was proudly tapping was one that descended from royalty. A German heavy tank that instilled the fear of God in Allied tank crews in both fronts of the Second World War. A true favorite for fans of armored vehicles, topped only by the original. A King Tiger.

"You're in love with that thing." Penelope teased.

"That, I will admit. Then again, why wouldn't I? It is my tank."

"True, true."

"How much do you _love_ you tank?" Mavis inquired.

"Enough to replace the gasoline engine with a diesel one." Penelope answered on Caroline's behalf.

"A diesel Tiger II? Those exist?"

"Of course it does! It's right in front of you! Want more proof? Come 'round the rear and you'll learn what diesel smells like real quick!" Caroline exclaimed, indignant.

"I'll, uh, take your word for it."

"Caroline really went above and beyond getting that diesel engine. It had to come from Germany, which meant hours on the phone calling the right people to get the thing shipped. The process was painfully slow, so much so that Caroline came real close to going to Germany herself to, in her words, 'restart the war'. Eventually, it did get shipped but guess what happened next? When it got to the U.S., it got stuck in customs! My God, she was so furious that she sent a letter to the German consulate in the city to see if they could do anything. They couldn't, so she just had to wait. Impatiently, I might add."

Caroline felt embarrassed. Not too embarrassed though.

"It was a headache and a half but it was all oh so worth it! The moment my crew got the engine, we spent all night installing it. When we turned on the ignition and the thing roared to life, it was the most satisfying moment in my life. Now, we got the fastest King Tiger this side of the Atlantic!"

_Barstow_

On the school bus, Valarie was sat at her preferred, usual seat. Right in the rear. She was gazing out the window, watching the familiar trees and houses fly by. Ones that she had seen countless times before. During its journey, the bus then made a stop, its doors opened and boarded some students. Among them was the special person in her life. Emma made her way back to the bus and sat down next to her. Her backpack placed down by her legs.

"You look older." Emma joked, getting a chuckle out of Valarie.

"Oh, I do, do I?" Valarie asked all innocently.

Emma moved in to give her girlfriend a hug. She then whispered into her ear,

"Happy birthday, babe."

Being called 'babe' sent Valarie over the moon. This is exactly how she envisioned her relationship with Emma to be. Emma then leaned down to open her backpack and dug through it.

"Now, for the first part of your gift."

"Ooh, first part? How interesting."

Out from her bag, Emma took out a warm paper bag and handed it to Valarie. Once she opened the bag, she was greeted with the wholesome aroma of fresh baked goods.

"Homemade chocolate chip peanut butter cookies. I woke up early to bake them."

Valarie reached into the bag and grabbed a cookie, still hot to the touch. She took a heavenly bite and softly moaned with satisfaction. They were simply exquisite.

"Absolutely amazing. And it's so soft too."

"The best cookies are."

Valarie ate one more, then two, then five. Before getting too carried away, she offered Emma a cookie, who happily accepted. After a pleasant bus ride, they arrived at the school and disembarked. They headed onto campus when from behind a pair of girls sneaked up on them. A tap on her back spooked Valarie, who turned around to see Ashley and Heather.

"Happy birthday!" they said in perfect unison.

In Ashley's hand was a pair of envelopes, which she gave to Valarie.

"We got you gift cards. Original, huh?"

"Gift cards are always great." Valarie said as she tore open her gift.

The first envelope was opened and the card within was a gift card for a hair salon.

"That's one mine. The ladies at that salon are savants when it comes to hair." Heather said.

The other envelope was then opened. The contents within a card for a local ice cream parlor.

"Everyone loves ice cream! So much so we scream for it! Don't actually scream though, I'm like right in front of you." Ashley said.

Valarie pocketed the gift cards.

"Thank you both kindly, I will enjoy the hell outta them."

The first bell of the day rang so the four girls bid their goodbyes and departed for their respective classes.

_Lunchtime_

Ashley decided to yet again take a break day from the weight room and took a stroll around campus to spend her lunch period. This time around, she kept a vigilant eye for Heather so that she doesn't just suddenly materialize just out of view to spook her. Her head was on a swivel, and yet despite being on constant alert, Heather somehow managed to sneak up on her. She didn't touch her, just stood right outside her peripheral vision. When Ashley, at last, saw her she jumped.

"God! That's just creepy, Heather!"

"It's funny to see your reaction."

Heather then turned her gaze to Ashley's arms, exposed as she was wearing her usual tank top. She seemed to be entranced by them.

"No, uh, weight room today?" she asked.

"No. Skipping today. It won't hurt my progress too much anyway."

"Can I…feel your progress?" Heather meekly asked.

"Touch? Um…okay."

Ashley flexed one of her arms to produce a muscle. Enthralled, Heather touched it. They were much firmer than she had expected. It made her happier than Ashley thought it was typical but didn't really mind it too much. It was about time someone appreciated all the hours at the gym other than herself.

"So, you going for an all buff look or what?"

"Oh God no, not anything like those bodybuilders. I like my body how it is right now. Toned."

From the corner behind them rounded Redwood, who upon seeing the girls, approached them eagerly.

"Excuse me ladies, but do I have some news to share!"

"Is it about the shelter?" Heather questioned

"It is! The city loves the idea so much that they are fast-tracking its progress. On May 5th, they'll start busting the shelter open. It's on a Sunday so you guys can come watch."

Ashley and Heather exchanged high-fives.

"Awesome! I can't wait to see the inside of a nuke shelter!" Ashley exclaimed.

In another part of the campus, in the courtyard, Emma and Valarie were underneath the palm tree. Both looking lovingly in each other's eye. Emma reached into her bag and grabbed a paper plate with tin foil wrapped on top of it. When she handed it to Valarie, she peeled it back and was presented with her lunch.

"New York-style pizza? Well alright!" she exclaimed as she took a bite.

"How is it?" Emma asked.

"Ice cold. So, perfect."

There was something about cold pizza that made it taste a thousand times better. It's how Valarie prefers her pizza. A little odd habit that Emma was more than happy to help her indulge in. After finishing her lunch, Emma wasn't finished with her gifts.

"I got one more thing for you. Something special. Real special. Close your hands."

With a giggle, Valarie complied. She soon felt her hand being manipulated and a moment later felt something placed in them. Something thin yet firm. She couldn't tell what exactly it was.

"Open your eyes."

Doing so, Valarie look down and was stunned. In her hand was a rose, its peddles a wonderfully vibrant crimson. It looked freshly plucked, supremely healthy, and trimmed. It was clear to her that the flower was tended to and cared for. The rose couldn't be any more perfect.

"Oh my God. This is the most divine rose I have ever seen."

"I've been growing that rose for months. I followed a rose care guide religiously and I'm so happy that it paid off. I removed the thorns too so you can hold it safely and then dipped it in wax."

"How long will it last being preserved?"

"It will last as long as we love each other." Emma softly said, gently caressing Valarie's cheek.

"So, forever." Valarie said.

"Forever." Emma echoed.

Emma then gestured toward Valarie's ear.

"I want you to wear it on your ear."

Valarie placed the flower carefully on her ear, its peddles proudly shown to the world.

"How do I look?"

"You've never looked more beautiful."

The two inched closer to each other, where they were now leaning against each other. For the remainder of the lunch period, they enjoyed the tranquility of the scene.

_Later_

The meeting for that day went as Emma hoped it would. It ended earlier than usual. As people were heading home, she spoke with Valarie.

"We're meeting up at the theater, yeah? At seven?"

"Seven" Valarie confirmed.

"Great! Wear something nice, okay? After all…"

She leaned in closer to whisper.

"…it is a date."

All bubbly, Valarie said goodbye and raced home to prepare for the first date of her life. In her room, she scoured her closet for the perfect outfit. What she took picked out were black jeans and a black-and-red plaid flannel. She laid them on her bed and took a quick shower. Once she got dried herself and got dressed, she spent an hour in front of the mirror to get her hair in pristine condition and to apply a little make-up to make her face pop. All the while, her mother watched with great amusement. She had seen her daughter go hang out with Emma more times than she could count. But for today, she had never seen her put so much effort in her appearance before going out. In her mind, she had a pretty good idea of what was going on, a thought that made her smile. As her daughter finished putting one some perfume, she looked at the time.

"Oh! It's almost seven! Time to go!"

The two got in the car and drove toward the movie theater. During their drive, they chatted.

"So, when will I pick you up?

"Let's say eleven o'clock."

"Eleven? But Valarie, it's a school night."

"Please mom!" Valarie pleaded.

"Oh alright, but only because it's your birthday."

'Thank you!"

Soon, they arrived at the theater. Valarie got out of the car.

"Alright, see you later!"

"Bye sweetheart, have fun on your date."

Valarie froze upon hearing her mom say that.

"How…how do you know it's a date?"

"I didn't. I do now though." her mother answered with a smirk.

"Oh…are you…surprised?"

"That you're gay? Not really. Your dad and I suspected that you were for a while now. What sealed it in for me was when I saw you two sleeping in each other's arm when you two spent that Saturday studying."

"You saw that?!"

"I did. And it was so adorable! Now, honey, don't keep your date waiting."

Valarie rushed off with the biggest smile in the world as her mother watching was overwhelmed with the adorableness of the situation. Valarie raced to the theater's entrance and found Emma, wearing a yellow-striped blouse and a black denim skirt.

"You look lovely." Valarie complimented.

"As do you."

Blushed appeared on them both. They were admitted into the theater and walked across the lobby.

"You want anything from the concessions stand?" Emma asked.

"Let's just share a soda."

Grabbing their drink, they went off where an usher directed them to their auditorium. As they walked, they locked arms and shared their fizzy drink. As they approached their theater, the auditorium before theirs opened and a group of people walked out. The movie in there had just finished. The girls walked through the crowd when they were suddenly facing two people that had not expected to see together. They all just stared at each other, silently, before one of them spoke.

"Uhh…hello…Mister Redwood…Miss Buchanan…on a…date I'm guessing?" Valarie asked, somewhat embarrassed.

The faces of both Redwood and Buchanan were red. They both spoke over each other trying to form a response. Then, Redwood managed to speak.

"Yeah…we were just finishing. I'm, uh, guessing you're just starting yours?"

"Yep." Emma answered.

"Well, uh, we won't keep ya. Have fun ladies."

They left, leaving Emma and Valarie bewildered.

"Did you see that coming?" Valarie asked.

"Them being together? No. Aren't they cute as a couple?"

"So cute!"

They continued walked and made it in time for their movie.

"So, what movie are we watching?"

Emma sported a grin.

"You ever heard of Tremors?"


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The quarter-finals approach and the team prepare accordingly. Learning new information, Valarie finds it won't be any old match.

_Saturday, April 20th 2013_

_Norfolk, Virginia_

_Old Dominion High School_

Two girls decked out in woodland-camouflaged uniforms were alone, walking in a large garage, with each of their footsteps producing loud echos throughout the building. The vehicles stored within were all parked in an orderly fashion. One of the girls was a wavy blonde, walking with a determined step. Her companion followed meekly right behind, a shorter girl with short brown curly hair. The curly-haired girl had a clipboard in hand, writing down whatever the blonde girl told her to write.

"For our upcoming match, I want as much of our heavy-caliber vehicles in play." the blonde said.

The girl fidgeted with her pen.

"Of course. Let's see…I've written down two IS-2s, five Shermans with the 105mm howitzer, and three STuH 42 Gs." she reported with a Southern drawl.

"Good. And I want that one in the match too!" the blond ordered, pointing at a Churchill.

The curly-haired girl felt a wave of apprehension.

"You…want the Churchill AVRE? Geez, Cassandra, don't you think we already have enough firepower? Not to mention that the AVRE's mortar has a maximum range of two hundred and ten meters. Maximum range! You also got to consider all the other tanks locked in to be in the match too, so, what we have is enough."

"Ellie…Ellie…since when were you the one making decisions?" Cassandra said sternly.

"I…I, uh…"

"Are you in charge around here?"

"Um…"

"Are you!?"

"N-no…I'm not" Ellie responded quietly.

"That's what I thought. I'm just making sure you understand your place in this team. You follow orders from either me or the captain. The only shred of god-damn authority you have around here is with your own crew and you better be thankful because it was me who made you the commander of the Panzer III."

"I'm…I'm thankful…always."

"Good. And now, I'm ORDERING you to put the Churchill AVRE on the list. God help you if I don't see the damn thing at the starting area in Montana."

"It'll be there! It'll be there! I'll make sure of it!"

"It better. There's a lot at stake with this match. Not only is it the quarter-finals of the tournament, but the very sanctity of tankery is at risk. If those boys from Mojave Rose are allowed to proceed in the competition, then this sport is irreparably ruined. Already did they inflict serious damage by getting this far, so it is up to us to save the sport."

"Wait, are all the vehicles on this list just to combat their IS-3? Ellie asked worryingly.

"Yes. It's not enough to just knock-out the IS-3. It needs to be so thoroughly destroyed to the point where Mojave Rose will have no choice but to scrap the thing."

"But, even one well-placed shot from the AVRE's mortar won't do the damage you want to happen."

"Then we all just keep firing until our barrels glow red. Maybe…those boys get hurt in the process…oh well sucks to be them."

Ellie was astonished.

"You…we can't shoot at a knocked-out tank! It's against the rules!"

"And males shouldn't be in tankery but here we are. I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to get them out of this sport."

Ellie felt incredibly uneasy about the situation. Ever since Cassandra has learned about Mojave Rose being a coed team, she had talked incessantly about them and how they needed to be annihilated in their match. She, and a few other like-minded commanders, have convinced themselves that they are on some sort of crusade to protect tankery. Ellie was dragged into, not only because she was a commander herself, but also because she and Cassandra were 'friends'. Though their relationship was totally lopsided. Cassandra essentially dictates what Ellie does, with any of her own decisions and suggestions belittled with Cassandra always saying that she has her 'best interests in heart'.

"_Your idea for the essay is stupid. My idea, though, will guarantee you an 'A'. You do want to pass this class, do you?"_

_"God, a garbage bag is more appeal than your 'dress'. No one will even look at you. Here, this dress I found is just perfect for you."_

"_Your make-up is great…for a clown. You should really let me do your make-up for you, you obviously have no idea what you're doing. What? I just want my friend to look pretty."_

"_Ugh! Stop saying 'y'all'! Stop saying 'might could'! You can't do anything about your accent but you CAN speak proper English. Don't make people think you're trailer-park trash. I'm helping you out here."_

When Ellie first transferred to Old Dominion High School from Alabama, she had no friends and found making them akin to a Herculean task as she was painfully shy and low on self-esteem. Then one day, Cassandra found her, eating alone during lunch and decided to 'take her in'. She was so nice at first but as time went on, her more angry and hateful nature would increasingly crop up. Now, Ellie had never seen her furious. It was clear to her that Cassandra had a hateful obsession with Mojave Rose but would never dare bring that up. The absolute last thing in the world she wanted was her rage directed at her. Yet, as terrified was her of Cassandra's fury, she was as equally desperate for her praise.

_Port of Long Beach_

_Catalina School of the Arts Carrier_

"Administration wants to speak with you." Alice informed.

Madison moaned loudly in her pillow.

"Ugh! On a weekend?" she complained

"It's about your offer."

Madison quickly leapt out of her bed and slipped on some shoes.

"Well then! Let's not keep them waiting!"

The pair left the dormitories and walked to the administrative area of the school. Where they were on the ship made it so they couldn't see the ocean that their vessel sailed upon but the constant squawking of the seagulls and the smell of sea spray made everyone know that the sea was always with them. The route to the administration building was a route that Madison has taken so many times before she could do walk there perfectly blindfolded. Upon arriving and walking through the door, the pair were presented with a long table filled with the school's chief administrators. Alice stood to the side while Madison stepped forward.

"Hello Madison, you seem keen on making this semester a record on the most visitations to administration by a single student."

"Well, what can I say? I gotta beat my record for last semester. And I just love meeting the people that make this school function." Madison sarcastically remarked.

"Oh, I'm sure. You do know why you're here this time around, yes?"

"I do indeed. About my offer."

"Yes, your offer. We've all been pondering about it for some time now and we came real close to just discarding it…yet some of us are still unsure."

"Mostly, why should this school bother? We don't operate a tankery team nor do we plan to in the foreseeable future. What you are proposing we do for the winner of the national competition just seems random." another administrator noted.

"My offer concerns less with the sport and more about prestige. Prestige is something we can never have enough of. This school goes on and on about its notable alumni which include world-renowned authors, actors, musicians and many more. What we do for the winners of the national tournament will make tankery-centric schools envious of us. Students will want to study here and a good chunk of them will have wealthy parents who will be more than happy to make generous donations to support their child's education."

An intrigued murmur existed among the administrators. Some of who were smiling.

"When explained that way, it does sound very beneficial."

"It's a proposal where all parties involved prosper. The best kind of proposal." Madison went on.

One of the administrators holding the paper that outlined Madison's offer reached for a stamp and applied a green marking on it, much to the approval of the other administrators.

"Well Madison, you've finally done it. You've swayed us. It's now official. We now authorize you to propose your offer to the school that wins the national tournament.

Madison was pleased beyond belief. The smile on her face will last all day.

"Thank you all for making a wise decision. Have an excellent day."

She left with Alice right behind. Now outside, they celebrated with a high-five.

"Amazing! That went better than I could have ever expected! You played that prestige angle perfectly, oh and that mention of wealthy parents!"

"Mmm, I did, didn't I? This school is addicted to two things; prestige and rich parents making ludicrous donations. I'm glad that it all worked out. I prefer not to get dirty with threats."

"Now that your offer has been given the green light, what's next?"

"The hardest part." Madison said woefully.

"Waiting till June."

_Barstow_

Just beyond the city limits were the distant thuds of guns. Out in the Mojave were the activity of armored vehicles. Tracks clattering and guns firing. The main attraction for practice today was the maiden voyage of the Panther II. Paige has been instructed to go to a specific position where the rest of the team had congregated.

"Alright, we're here." Paige informed when her tank came to a halt.

"_Owl, _you are fifteen hundred meters from what we call Crater Hill. Take aim and prepare for fire." Valarie instructed.

With orders received, the Panther II crew got to work. Melody grabbed the twenty-three pound 88mm shell from the ammo rack that lined the inside of the turret. It was inserted promptly into the breech, producing a satisfying mechanical noise.

"Ready!" she yelled.

Eli had his eyes pressed against the gun sight. He had spent the past few days getting familiar with the Zeiss optics. With the markings on the sight being triangles, he compared them to a mountain range, and as the center triangle was the biggest, he named that marking Everest

"Target acquired." he said.

"_Oasis, _we are ready to fire." Paige relayed.

Pleased, Valarie, along with the rest of the team were out of their vehicles to hear the Panther II fire for the first time. With a squeeze, she activated the radio worn snugly around her neck.

"Fire."

It was amazing what the end result was from the simple pull of the trigger. Out from the barrel was a storm of fire and smoke as the projectile shot out toward the target. The air was filled with the smell of vaporized propellant and the sound of the legendary 88mm cannon, with its echo reverberating throughout the Mojave. Once everyone regained their hearing, they were all visibly excited. The Panther II will be a fantastic addition to the team. Eli seemed to have beginner's luck as he has hit his target, contributing another crater to the hill of the same name. As the rest of the team went off to do their routine, Ray and Valarie remained to speak with the new crew.

"How's practice? Like you imagined?" Valarie asked.

"I know this sport is all about tanks shooting at each other but I still never thought it'd be this loud…and thrilling." Paige commented.

"The loudness is something we all get used too. Thankfully though, the thrill is something that never goes away. It will forever be as high as the day you started."

Paige then took a moment to examine her uniform more closely. Specifically on her right sleeve where the patches were sewn on.

"Hmm. I take it that these are our local sponsors?" she inquired.

"They are. They sent us the funds that keep this team afloat."

"Mmm, I'm especially fond of this one." Paige remarked, pointing to a patch.

"That one? Yeah, it is the coolest of the bunch, being a Greek soldier and all."

"Ah, to be more specific, it's a Spartan hoplite in phalanx formation."

Ray lit up upon hearing Paige's words.

"I see you know your fair share of ancient history." he complimented.

"Well, I only know what it is not really because of ancient history but because my dad works at the company who has that as their logo."

"Oh, that's cool. What kind of company is it exactly?"

"An aerospace one."

Paige and Valarie continued to converse as Ray went off to have a one-on-one with Eli.

"It's nice to see another guy sign on up." Ray said.

"Man, I'm just glad there's already a male crew on this team. It would've been super awkward to be the only dude on team."

"Yes, but you are still in the unique situation of being the only guy in your crew."

"Huh. I, uh, never really thought about that. It's not really a big deal, I think."

"Now, let me tell you about people who do see it as a big deal…" Ray began, speaking now with a serious tone.

"Tankery is traditionally a girl's sport and some people are deadset on keeping it that way. You won't face any opposition on this team, thank God, but it's inevitable that you'll face some sort of harsh treatment by those who are obsessed with tradition. That's why I'm asking you to be _careful. _Very careful. I wish this wasn't the case and that you and I can be worry-free but that's the reality of the situation.

Eli put a finger on his chin.

"Are you saying that I can't date anyone on the team? Now, uh, I'm not saying I joined this team to date, but…c'mon…there are some cuties here and they look _stunning_ with the uniforms.

Ray let out a huge sigh. He stepped closer and got quiet with his speech.

"Look, I'm not saying you can't date and don't get me wrong, the girls on this team are cute especially this one girl…uh…wait…I'm getting off-track! What I'm trying to say is to be safe about it. If you're going to date any girl on this team, let her make the first move. Let her ask you out and give you flowers. You and I are already breaking gender norms by being on this team, it's only fair for the girls on this team to break them themselves."

Eli grinned as he nodded.

"It actually sounds nice to be courted after rather than doing the courting yourself. Less effort on my end, that's for sure."

Ray gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"Just remember this; you belong on this team and no one can tell you otherwise."

The two boys shared a fist bump and returned to their respective vehicles. Practice has been going smoothing today, with the new crew performing well in their first outing. The Panther II no longer looked clean as if it was sterilized. Its exterior has been coated with a fine layer with the desert dust. It has now been broken in. Several hours into practice and the team now was having a break. All of the vehicles parked together in a loose group as people either rested or socialized with each other. Ray had opted to do the former as he laid on top of the turret of the IS-3. With his eyes pointed skyward, he gazed at the blue sky with a few wispy clouds flying to wherever the wind took them. The day wasn't too hot, but rather, comfortable warm. The sun felt nice on his skin, acting as a pleasant blanket. His break would've gone by uninterrupted had not someone climbed on the side of this tank and tugged with force on his uniform. Turning his head, he saw Natalie with a serious look on her face.

"You told Valarie yet?" she questioned.

"About wha—oh…that." Ray answered reluctantly."

"Well? Have you?"

"Well…no."

A nervousness has sunk its roots into him.

"What's stopping you?"

"Now's not the time. Our match is next Saturday so we all gotta focus on that. I'll tell her after the match."

"Sure you will. And when I'll remind you again, you'll come up with another excuse and the cycle will just continue.

"Okay, I'll tell her Monday."

Natalie looked at him frowning.

"I'd cross my arms if I didn't need to hold on to these hand-holds as to not fall off. If you don't tell Valarie today, I will."

Ray sighed and rubbed his face.

"Fine. I'll go right now."

"Thank you." Natalie said, relieved.

Ray hopped off the tank and proceeded to walk to the T-44 just nearby. As he got closer, his anxiousness bubbled even higher. He knew what happened to him is something that couldn't be swept under the rug and hope that it never happens again. Even if he wanted to do that, Natalie would never let that happen. Valarie was going to know regardless, so, in that case, he'll do it himself. Arriving at the T-44, he found her sitting on the ground, resting against the roadwheels, along with the rest of her crew.

"Hey Valarie, mind if we have a talk?" he asked.

Valarie stood up and had a stretch.

"Sure thing, what's up?"

Before going further, Ray noted that Emma, Ashley, and Heather were looking at them.

"Can we go somewhere private? It's personal."

Intrigued, she nodded and followed him a good distance away from anyone else to make sure not a soul could hear what he has to say. He adopted a hush tone.

"I, uh, got a strong feeling that our next match won't be very friendly."

"Strong feeling?" Valarie wondered, arms crossed.

"Yeah, a feeling…actually no not a feeling. I know for a fact it won't be friendly."

"What do you mean? What's wrong?"

Ray relaxed and let out a breath.

"During the convention, right after I left the captain's event, I came into contact with some of the students of the school we're going up against. They swarmed me and said every insult they could short of being racist towards me. One of them, this blonde girl, called me a pervert. It…ugh…"

Ray stopped briefly to stifle tears.

"It really sucked, to put it lightly. They said I was 'ruining' the sport."

Valarie was supremely upset about what he told her and took immense pity on him, giving him a hug.

"God Ray…" she softly.

"…why did you tell me earlier?"

"We were busy with the rules committee, so I figured you wanted to be focused on that and only that. It was so important."

Valarie ran her fingers through her hair.

"Well, thanks for telling me before our match with them."

"So, what does it do with our strategy?"

She stroked her chin.

"They'll most definitely treat us more harshly. The main question is, if their whole team will be like that or only some of them?"

"Whatever happens, one thing is for sure. I'm their public enemy number one."

_Sunday_

Buchanan, with her arms aching and shirt partially soaked with her sweat, laid down the last box in what is now her home. For the past few days, she was in the process of moving her belongings from her former apartment to the home that Redwood invited her to live in. Her possessions were nothing out of the ordinary, other than the seemingly large amount of hiking equipment. Redwood rummaged through her things and picked up a trekking pole.

"A bit of a hiker, eh?" he remarked.

Buchanan laughed a little.

"Before being an instructor, I really had no reason to leave my apartment. I spent so much time inside that all the days felt blurred. I once thought it was Monday and I had one Hell of a shock when it was actually a Friday. I learned two things from that experience. One, prison must really, _really_ suck. Two, I gotta do something that gets me outside. So, I got into hiking. And I'm glad I did because all that walking was peaceful.

"You sure did into hiking, look at all this stuff! Boots, sun hats, backpacks, sunglasses, and like ten different kinds of water bottles."

Buchanan groaned softly.

"I don't even want to begin to think how much money I spent on all that stuff."

"Well, there's worse habits you can have."

"Guess so."

Buchanan plopped on the couch, with Soap leaping onto her lap.

"I'm tired. All the boxes are inside already so we're done for the day. I'll unpack tomorrow."

Redwood sat down with her, she rested her head against his. They sat together quietly, just enjoying the other's company. The atmosphere was tranquil, with the sun streaking wonderfully across the room. The only sound that could be heard was their breathing along with the mellow purrs of the cat napping on her lap. While Redwood was more than happy to just sleep here, Buchanan couldn't. A thought that has been gnawing at her since she had given up her settlement.

"You know Martin, sooner or later I would like to have job that has a paycheck."

"But, since we're living together, won't your expenses be near zero?"

"Yeah, but I want to help out with yours."

Redwood wrapped his arms around her.

"Oh, well, that's very thoughtful of you, but—"

"But the thing is that I last recall you saying to me that the school doesn't have it in the budget to hire anyone full-time."

"Yes, that is what I told you then, but as things tend to do, they change."

"Oh?" Buchanan remarked with a raised brow.

"Well…" he began with a smile.

"The state is giving out generous grants to schools with notable athletic accomplishments, and I don't know about you, but a school that hasn't had a tankery team in over twenty years now finding itself in the quarter-finals of a national tournament is quite the accomplishment indeed."

"A generous grant, huh? Could it be enough to, say, hire someone?"

"It is. The school, as it turns out, is looking to properly hire a tankery instructor. Luckily, I happen to know the perfect candidate for the job."

Buchanan glanced down to hide a blush as the couple held hands.

"Excuse me, Miss Buchanan, but are you available for an interview?" Redwood said playfully.

"Oh, I think I can squeeze it in my schedule." she responded amid giggles.

"Now, Miss Buchanan, what are your qualifications for the job?"

She leaned closer to him, gently caressing his cheek.

"I'd rather show than tell."

On the couch on a warm and calm Sunday, the two shared a loving kiss. Today was the beginning of their new lives. A road was now before them, a road that will contain totally new experiences for them both. Whatever happens, good and bad, they'll remain at each other's side, ready to take it on.

* * *

At the apartment complex that Buchanan formerly lived in, Heather was home, in her room. A room where nearly all the space within was occupied by something related to her passion. Rolls of cloth, leather, and yard. Scissors and sewing tape were strewn about, with the ever-popular tomato pin cushion that she had crafted herself. It was a messy room for sure, but it was a mess where Heather knew where everything was and would prefer if no one tried to interfere with the 'controlled chaos' she had created. In a corner of her room was her little workshop, a desk with a lamp placed directly overheard for good lighting and a magnifying glass affixed to it to ensure her costume making goes as precisely as it could. Then there was her sewing machine. It was that and the T-44 that she knew all the mechanisms that made them function inside and out. The manuals for each was something she devoured and reread so many times that each word has been imprinted on her mind. When working on a outfit, be it for a cosplay, she was in a state of complete serenity. Where not even the voice that has cruelly manifested in her mind could ever hope to breach and wreak havoc. Today though, she was doing a different type of work. At her desk where she sat as the map of the battlefield for the team's match in Montana. Everyone on the team got a copy of the map so that they all could familiarize themselves with the terrain so that they know what to expect. It was an environment that would be a first for everyone; a match at the iconic American grassland. Looking at some photos of the area, she found the place to be strikingly beautiful. A sea of grass that stretched all the way to the horizon and beyond. Only interrupted by the odd patch of trees, and in the team's case, an abandoned mining town. It was that feature that captured her attention. Anything abandoned fits right in with her niche interests. Looking further into that town and she learned just how decrepit a state it was in. It was at the complete mercy of the elements, and the elements had none to give. The wood was rotting, windows long smashed and doors just barely hanging on by their hinges. Anything resembling a road was in utter disrepair. Looking at these photos for some time gave her a spooky vibe, and then, an idea. The more she gave thought to it, the more that she fell in love with it. It was a devious idea and she decided to enlist the help of a devious person to help execute it. She got out her phone and shot a text to Ashley.

"You busy?"

A minute later, a response.

"No, what's up?"

"I got a fun idea for our upcoming match. Fun and devious."

" :) What do you have in mind"

Heather couldn't wipe the smile that spawned on her face.

"First off, do you know how to burn a CD?"


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan, some sabotage, and Heather nearly running her life.
> 
> Just a normal Friday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload. I've got less free time than I would've liked yesterday. Nonetheless, enjoy!

_Monday_,_ April 22nd 2013_

The days leading up to a match were always busy. There was the logistics of getting the team, their vehicles, and all the associated equipment needed to operate them to wherever they are needed to go. The further the distance, the more work there is to be done, which in turn, means more headaches that Redwood and Buchanan would have to deal with. Though, at least they are used to such business by now. Yet, this time around, something a little different will be going on.

"Because our upcoming match is all the way in Montana, we'll be arriving in the state the day before the match to not only so we can refresh ourselves after traveling, but also tend to our vehicles one last time prior to the action." Buchanan announced.

Though the match was forthcoming, since it was a Monday, the meeting for today was fairly typical. Most of the team were performing more attentive maintenance than usual as everyone wanted their machines to be at their best come the big day. No one wanted some unforeseen mechanical fault that could potentially compromise a victory. Those that weren't performing maintenance were the commanders, who have met in Room 34 for the usual meeting. There, Ray and Valarie were at the front of the room, each standing at either side of a projector screen. All the commanders sat before them listened intently to the strategy being explained.

"We are, from our starting area, fifteen miles from this abandoned mining town. Ray had suggested a strategy with this town at an earlier meeting and it's something that I agree with completely. This team needs experience fighting in an urban environment. Sure, this little town isn't Berlin or Stalingrad, but it's better than nothing. Because we are closer to the town than the other team, as soon as the match starts, everyone will make a beeline for it. We will take the town and be on the defensive. Some of us will be in the town itself, others will be sentries and be positioned around the outskirts of the town."

"What if they just flat-out ignore the town?" Robin wondered.

"They won't. And even if the very first thing they do is not head to the town, it's a destination that they'll inevitably head towards. The town is the only notable feature on the battlefield. The rest of the area is just a huge grassland with the odd patch of trees. Oh! About the trees! Jacqueline, you will have the SU-14 at this spot, nestled in some trees just five miles from the town. Now, since cover is at a premium at a grassland, the other team will sooner or later figure out we're using the trees as cover for our artillery. So, Robin, you'll be paired up with her to guard her."

Robin and Jacqueline looked at each other and exchanged nodes.

"The flag tank this time around will be mine, the T-44."

"Another flag match?" Marielle moaned.

"When are we going to have an eliminated match?"

Valarie put on a patient smile.

"The national finals will be an elimination match. The ATA makes it like that to make things that more dramatic. But, for now, let's focus on the immediate future. We're in the quarter-finals. Things are going to be more intense…"

She trailed off as she glanced toward Ray who gave her a subtle nod.

"Things were always going to get more intense, that's just the nature of competition. But for our next match, we have to expect that enemy team to treat us…harshly. I've learned recently that at least some of them really don't like the fact that we are a coed team."

The commanders in the room put on confused expressions as if they didn't understand what was being said. Save for one.

"Why would they care? Why would anyone care that we have guys on the team? This is just a sport, just a game." Aurora remarked.

Valarie looked at her specifically.

"Just look at all the marketing for tankery and you'll quickly come to learn that they supremely cater to the fairer sex. In fact, you'll never find a guy shown in advertisements for tankery. This sport is female-dominated to an insane degree, which is odd if you think about it as when men operate tanks they tend to die in them. Anyway, there are some people out there who want the sport to just be for the ladies. Now, I can't say if it's all of the team but some of them most certainly already hate us. And we can us that hate to our advantage."

Valarie turned toward the map and began pointing.

"Ray's tank is part of the sentries posted on the outskirts of town. He will be the most forward position of all the sentries. The idea here is that it'll make the IS-3 look like an isolated, tempting target. And because our opponents are just huge fans of Ray and his crew, they will converge on him and open fire. The heavy armor of the IS-3 will shrug off any and all hits sent in its direction as long as is pike is pointed toward enemy fire. Ray will weather the storm as he radios the team for reinforcement. We back him up and knock-out the tanks shooting at him."

"Uh, I'm a bit, uh, iffy on that part. What if they bring to much firepower?" Natalie questioned

"I'm sure my tank can handle whatever they throw at us. If anything, they are the ones who should be scared." Ray boasted.

Natalie asked no further questions, merely sinking into her seat, concerning still weighing heavily on her mind. The Montana match was causing more anxiety for her here, more than any of the other previous matches. She laid a hand on her stomach as it ached. All these feelings will only get worse as the match draws draw and will definitely skyrocket once it begins. But much like how she acted during the convention, she will not just lay idly by as Ray suffers whatever abuse the other team has in store for him. She'll do whatever she can to support him and beat them back. The commander's meeting came to an end and they all returned to the garage to rejoin with their respective crews. At the T-44, the four girls were tending to their vehicle. On top of the rear of the machine, knelling on top the engine deck, Ashley and Heather were in the middle of a conversation.

"So, you can burn a CD right?" Heather again asked.

"Hey, you don't need my level of computer skill to know how trivial that is. I have software so I can get it done real quick."

Heather was visibly pleased.

"That is great to hear. Mind if I come over to your house to help make it?"

Ashley looked at her for a moment and then nodded eagerly.

"Uh…yeah, yeah! It'll be fun!"

As soon as the meeting ended, Ashley followed Heather to her car where they both got in, seat belts fastened, and engine turned on.

"I don't live too far from the school, my address is—"

"I know where you live. I picked you up when we went to the arcade, remember?"

"Oh…that's right. You actually remember that?"

"I remember everything to the finest detail."

"Damn. That's cool!"

"Yeah, well…not always."

She drove out of the school's parking lot and toward Ashley's home. A short three-minute drive and they promptly arrived. Once parked and out of the car, Ashley took a look at the driveway.

"Looks like my dad is working late today, so you're just meeting my mom today."

Heather's mind ran wild as she tried to picture what Ashley's mother would look like. Many possibilities were created in her head yet none could really prepare her for the person she was about to meet. Entering through the door and taking just a few steps inside, in the living room, was Ashley's mother relaxing on the couch. Her hair worm short and dyed a ghostly white. Her ears and nose were pierced with glimmering silver rings. What was the most-eye catching, though, was the fact that her mother from the neck down was covered with tattoos. Heather's previous idea of Ashley's mother has been shattered. Before, she thought that Ashley, through her appearance, was acting rebellious against her parents as teenagers are known to do. Instead, what she now saw was a daughter emulating her parents. She found it very wholesome in a way.

"Ash, baby, how was school?" her mother asked.

"Ah, you know, same-old same-old. Mom, this is Heather. She's a friend from school and on the team with me."

"Ahh, hello there Heather. My daughter isn't giving you or anyone else too much of a hard time, is she?"

"No, no, no. She's a great friend and is excellent at what she does for the team." Heather replied

"Awesome. So what brings you here? Some kind of class project?"

"Eh, kind of. It's for the team." Ashley answered.

"All right then, best you two get right to it."

Ashley nodded and gestured to Heather to follow. They went down a hallway and into her room, nice and cool as a ceiling fan was whirling just above. Ashley set her backpack on the bed and undid the buttons on her uniform to get comfortable, revealing her usual tank-top underneath. All the while, Heather just stood by the foot at her bed.

"Your mom…" she said.

"Yeah?"

"…has tattoos."

"Yep."

"All over her body, basically."

"MmmHmm."

"That's wicked cool."

"Yeah, she's pretty neat huh?"

Ashley sat at her computer desk and shook a mouse to awaken it. Heather sat right behind on her bed. She watched as Ashley opened a program on her desktop.

"This is some set-up you have here, I mean, two monitors?" Heather commented.

"It looks cool and it does come in handy from time to time."

Heather looked closely at the screen and saw a multitude of icons, most of which she didn't know what function they had.

"I take it that you do more than just watch videos and homework on this thing?"

"No. I do things like photoshop and programming _while_ watching videos. No comment on homework."

"Programming? You code?"

"I dabble. I can certainly do more than just do 'Hello World!' though. Anyway, on to your idea."

"Of course. You got a blank CD around here?"

Ashley opened of the drawers of her desk and rummaged through them. After a bit of digging, she got out a CD ready for data storage.

"Okay, what do you want on this thing?"

"The sound of an old-school telephone ringing, the sound of a grandfather clock chiming, the wails of a baby, and low-quality music from the twenties."

Ashley looked away from her computer and turned to Heather, completely befuddled.

"That is, beyond doubt, the worst mixtape ever imagined. What's the, uh, goal here?"

"I'm taking a page from the CIA here."

"…what?" Ashley again said, still confused.

"During the Vietnam war, the CIA executed Operation Wandering Soul. Exploiting the culture of the Vietnamese of where the dead must be buried in their homeland, they played eerie recordings in the dead of night out in the battlefield of a supposed ghost, pleading to his friends still alive to give up the fight and run away."

Ashley thoughtfully stroked her chin, smiling as she did.

"Ahhh, you want to give them a scare, do you?"

"A damn good one. The goal here is to play the CD from one of the abandoned buildings in the town. Maybe, just maybe, it'll get them to do something stupid, something we can take advantage of."

"That's devious, Heather. I love it!"

Ashley began working on her computer, eagerly clicking and typing away.

"So, how long will it take to make this?" Heather asked.

"Honestly, the longest part of the process will be just finding good sources to rip the audio from."

Heather entered into a smirk.

"Actually, I know just the sources that will work beautifully."

_Tuesday_

The school was now very deep into prom season. Posters covered every square inch of space, be it on the walls, trees, poles, or lockers. As prom for this year was tank themed, for obvious reasons, all the posters were created in a military-style. They looked like recruitment posters, asking students to 'sign-up' for a night of dancing and general good times. Almost every single member of the team has now committed to going to prom. To them, it was almost as exciting as their match later on in the week. Just one member of the team was planning on not going at all. He was currently at the library doing what he always did for lunch. Reading. Ray didn't care much for prom. He hasn't gone to any of them for the past few years of being at the school, so why start now? Another person on the team, though, had another idea in mind. As soon as lunch started, she headed straight for the library as she knew that was where he always was. Upon arriving, she saw him alone at a table, head buried in a book. Walking right up to him, he didn't notice her presence. What a bookworm, she thought. With the gentle push of her finger, she moved his book down away from him and onto the table.

"You aren't too busy reading to have a little chat, are you?" Natalie asked, all innocent.

Ray glanced down and saw that Natalie still maintained a finger on his book. Not interested to see what would happen if he tried to regain control of his book, he let go of it.

"Um, not really"

"Good. I wanted to talk to you about something."

Natalie then sat down a chair away from him.

"Now, unless you're blind, you've surely noticed all the posters for prom. It's on May 4th. A Saturday."

" A Saturday, huh?" he mused.

"MmmHmm, so there won't be any practice that day because it's a huge event that the school wants everyone to come to."

"Cool, a day-off then."

"Yes, a day-off. Especially after our match all the way in Montana. Appropriate, huh?"

"It does. Just a day where I'll stay home all day."

"Home? Oh, are you not going to prom?" Natalie said, feigning ignorance.

"I'm not really a prom-type of guy."

"Well, almost the entire team is going. Even your friends. Are you telling me you won't go even for them?"

Ray let out a small sigh.

"I've told Valarie this so I might as well tell you. You see, there's this huge expectation to dance at prom and I just don't want to deal with it."

Natalie internally became very pleased. She had anticipated him saying something like that and prepared accordingly.

"Can't dance?" she asked.

"…No, I can't" he admitted.

"Well, just a thought, but, if you could dance, would you be more willing to go?"

Ray thought for a moment.

"Hmm. In that case I might be more willing, yeah. But with my current schedule, I just can't squeeze in a dance class or something."

"It looks like to me that you got free time during lunch. All you seem to do is get lost in some book."

"The school offers a dance class during lunch?"

"Well…not officially. The teacher is quite young and there is only one student."

"One student? That's one hell of a small class. And this teacher, have I seen her before?"

"You have actually, more than you think. It's a student."

"So the teacher is a student that I've seen before. What does she look like?"

"A girl a bit shorter than you, fair skin, with her long black hair done in a low bun."

It didn't take long for Ray at all to find out who this teacher Natalie was describing.

"You're talking about yourself, aren't you? You're the dance teacher. And that student you're referring to is me."

"I'm willing to help you out, Ray. I want you to go to prom. And the best way to make that happen is that if I teach you to dance."

Both of Ray's brows were raised. He did not see that coming at all.

"You want to teach me to dance? Is some a joke or something?"

"No joke. I'm not much of a comedian. I'm being serious here. Will you let me teach you?"

Ray looked down at the table, thinking deeply. He had noticed in the past few months that the relationship between him and Natalie has been steadily improving. The day they met was still fresh in his mind, in vivid detail. From her wanting him and his friends out of the team to now her offering to teach him how to dance. In the back of his mind, he had an idea as to why she was really doing this. Though he wouldn't mention it to her because there was the chance that he misread her intentions which would make things incredibly awkward between the two. He'll play it safe. Real safe.

"Alright, since you're so kindly offering, I accept. So, teacher, when does the first lesson start?"

Natalie rolled her eyes at his humor.

"After the match is when we'll start. We'll spend our lunch period at the backstage of the theater. No one is there during that time so no one will see or interrupt."

"That's fine by me. I don't want anyone to see me making an ass of myself while learning."

Natalie grinned.

"Oh, but I will be seeing you making an ass of yourself. Seeing each of your mistakes and clumsy moves. But that is all part of the process. I'm positive by the end of it you'll be a fine dancer."

Still grinning, she left ray back to his reading. She felt nice and warm inside but kept her emotions in control. This was just teaching a fellow team member how to dance and that was it. It didn't mean anything more. She definitely did not have any other reasons as to why she offered to teach him. It definitely wasn't just to spend time with him and to learn more about who he was as a person. Just dance lessons and nothing more.

_Later_

At the garage, the next stage of preparations was underway. All of the team's vehicles were being readied for transport. All the equipment affixed to them were being double-checked to ensure they were securely fastened so that they wouldn't fall off, or worse, get damaged while in transit. One particular piece of equipment that above all the team wanted to secure was the ammunition. The loaders of the team made sure that the ammo of their vehicles were firmly in their racks with no chance of them falling out. Not only would them falling cause a mess, but damaged ammo created complications. Damage could be severe enough that ammo just couldn't be fired. And if a shell now made inert was loaded frantically in a time-sensitive situation, the consequences could mean the difference between a victory or a defeat. Though, with Buchanan's strict insistence on safety, the chances were zero that any shell on the team would even get scratched during their journey to Montana. Over at the T-44, Heather has become the most obsessed person on the team to guarantee that their tank had no difficulties whatsoever while being shipped to the match.

"Have the tracks been tightened?" she asked.

"Yes, Heather, three times now. Any more and we'll strip the pins holding them together." Ashley responded, voice slightly annoyed.

Heather looked at the tracks.

"A segment is loose." she said pointing.

"How can you tell from just looking?"

"I just can. Please check it out."

Ashley dragged her feet to the track segment in question. She jiggled it with her hand and to her utter amazement discovered that Heather was correct. The segment was indeed loose. She tightened and look back at her

"How? Just how? That segment didn't look loose at all!"

"When Katanya needs attention, I just know. Much like how a mother knows when her baby needs her."

Ashley eyed her up, highly amused.

"Okay…what does Katanya need now? An oil change?"

Heather answered with a soft smile.

"She's all ready for her next outing. Speaking of what is ready, how about that CD?"

Ashley went off to the area of the garage where everyone's backpack was stored. She found her's and dug out what she was looking for. She went back to Heather and proudly showered her the CD in a clear case.

"Ready to scare!" she proclaimed.

"Nice! And the CD player?" Heather asked.

"The…what?"

"CD player."

"Yeah…uh…I don't have one."

"What do you mean you don't have one? Aren't you the type of person who has one of those things?"

"Well, uh, my computer can play CDs but I'm not dragging the thing all the way to Montana. Do you have one?"

Heather then became red with embarrassment.

"Ah, no…I, uh, stream all my entertainment."

From above, came an answer.

"I have a stereo that plays CDs."

They both looked up, seeing Valarie looking down at them.

"A stereo? We need that." Heather said.

Valarie hopped down.

"Sure, but what for?"

Ashley brandished the CD in front of her.

"Psychological warfare."

Valarie studied the CD with curiosity. Handwritten on it was the single word 'spooky'.

"What is this?"

"A collection of sounds fit for a haunted house." Ashley answered.

Thinking about it further, it clicked for Valarie, getting a smile out of her.

"Ohh, I see. You got the idea because there is an abandoned town on the battlefield."

"It is, indeed, the source of my inspiration. So, if we get a chance can we play the CD to scare the hell out of the enemy team?" Heather suggested.

Valarie pondered her request. Attacking the minds of the opponent was a piece of advice that Bascom's captain, Isabella, had shared with her after the first match of the national tournament.

"_That's psychological warfare, girl. Mess with the mind of your opponent to get them to do something stupid._"

A valid strategy. And since members of the opposing team have gone out of their way to harass the co-captain, her friend, well, Valarie concluded that giving them a scare was what they deserve. She gave them a nod.

"If there is an opportunity, we're doing it." Valarie declared.

Ashley and Heather exchanged eager glances.

"Awesome! Saturday can't come soon enough!" Ashley exclaimed.

_Friday_

_St. Ignatius, Montana_

_Midnight_

The temperature was frigid and the gusts of bitter wind felt like the blades of knife when they hit bare skin. The town of St. Ignatius was just shy of twenty miles away from the National Bison Range, a refuge for the iconic American bison. It was the place where the ATA has selected as the location for the next match of the national tournament. With a population of just under a thousand, St. Ignatius fit the archetype small American town. For the next few days though, its numbers will temporarily swell as people from all over the country come to match, either to spectate or to take part in it. The town will certainly appreciate all the extra cash all those people will be bringing. Though the match was not till Saturday, one school had already arrived and settled in. In a motel, Old Dominion rested after a lengthy plane trip. While most were fast asleep, a few were wide awake. They quietly slipped out of their rooms and met outside. Three girls, bundled in warm clothing, were discussing what they were about to do.

"No Ellie, Cassandra?" one asked.

"No. She'd be a liability here. Anyway, I hope you all understand what we are doing?"  
The two other girls nodded. With a motion of her hand, Cassandra beckoned them to follow.

"Good. Let's get going and do this quick. No idea when Mojave Rose could suddenly arrive."

They walked down the street, following a route that Cassandra was planned out before. They all walked with a determined step, their minds focused on one thing. To 'save' tankery. The streets were still, with the girls being the only ones populating them. Some twenty minutes later and they arrived to a garage surrounded by a chain-link fence. The entire area was incredibly dark with only moonlight barely making things visible. Each of the girls climbed up and over and were now inside the fence. One of the girls turned on a flashlight and aimed it at a door.

"You're up, Jessica."

Approaching the door, Jessica reached into her pocket and got out a lock pick. She then worked on the door and after some time and a bit of force, there was a click and the sound of a door opening. They entered the garage and from the moonlight streaking in through the window, they smiled devilishly as they saw what was before them. The vehicles of Mojave Rose, arriving just the day before.

"Oh, the carnage we can cause…" Cassandra happily said.

"….but we can't over-do with the sabotage."

She already had her first target in mind. Looking around, she found it, parked in a corner.

"The Jagdpanzer IV. The bitch we met at the convention commands that. Let's see what we can do with that, shall we?"

They all went to the Jagdpanzer IV, thinking about what to do with the machine. Cassandra climbed on top of it and opened one of the hatches to take a look inside. Seeing the gun sight, she got an idea of what to do. She hopped inside and toyed with the sights, turning a dial here and there at random. It was totally decalibrated.

"Whoops! Did I do that? My bad." Cassandra remarked in an annoying tone.

She got out and off the Jagdpanzer, contemplating the next target. Not too far from them was the IS-3. Walking towards it with a scowl, she acted like the machine was contaminated with some disease.

"Are we doing anything with the IS-3?" asked Jessica.

Cassandra entered into a demented laugh.

"No,no. We got special plans in store for that thing."

She turned to the vehicle next to the IS-3, the T-44.

"Ah yes, the tank of the captain of Mojave Rose. Ugh. She should've stopped boys from even stepping one foot on a tankery team. She had a responsibility and she completely ignored it. Her heretical practices are what is ruining tankery. She needs to be taught a lesson."

Cassandra noticed a nearby shelf on the wall, filled with all sorts of things one would find in a garage. Walking towards it, she took a look through the shelf. There was something on the shelf that was perfect for what she wanted to do. She picked it up.

"A T-44 runs on diesel, right?" she asked jiggling a fuel can in her hand.

"Yes, yes it does indeed." Jessica answered with a smile.

They went to the tank and drained it of its diesel. They stored it in canisters and hide them away. All three of them began pouring gasoline into the T-44, making spills and spreading fumes. A few empty cans of gas later and the deed was done.

"Once they start their tank, they'll get one hell of a surprise." Cassandra said.

She looked at the time.

"Let's get out of here. The sun is going to rise soon."

They put everything back in its proper place, closed and locked the door they broke in through and climbed the fence back outside. They made their escape back to the hotel.

_Noon_

With the sun high in the sky, it was still cold but a bit more bearable. Just a few minutes before noon, the Mojave Rose tankery team has finally arrived after a lengthy bus ride from the airport. At a motel, they disembarked and stretched outside. The air was unbelievably crisp and clean. Some of them found it really satisfying to breathe. As the team mingled around, Valarie took Ray aside to speak with him privately.

"Just to let you know, this town only has one motel. So the people who harassed you are for sure inside."

Ray looked anxiously at the motel.

"I can't get a break, can I?" he complained

Valarie gave him a reassuring hug and the team checked in to their motel rooms. They all relaxed in their rooms to rest from all the traveling for a few hours before Buchanan called them to the lobby.

"Alright, we're going to a nearby garage to check-up on our vehicles to give them an inspection before the match tomorrow."

Boarding another bus, the team enjoyed a quick drive to the garage in question. Eager to rejoin the T-44, Heather was the first off the bus and the first waiting at the door as Buchanan hurriedly unlocked the door. All of the crews went to their respective vehicles and began inspecting them. At the T-44, the four girls gave their tank a good look. It looked alright but Heather wanted to hear the engine to see if anything more needed to be done.

"Emma, mind turning on the ignition? Just hold down the clutch while pressing the switch, it's easy." Heather asked.

"Sure thing."

Emma began to walk to the driver's position. As the rest of the crew waited, Heather then sniffed something peculiar. She stepped closer to take another sniff and became deeply confused. She was smelling something that shouldn't be there. Every smell she took in grew her alarm and anxiety. She then happened to look down and spotted a small spill on the floor. Kneeling down, she dipped her fingers into it and brought them to her nose. Smelling the fumes told her what it was, and shook her to her core.

"This isn't diesel! This is gas!" she yelled.

She ran to the front of the tank and saw Emma in the driver's seat. She was just about to start the ignition where Heather than forcefully grabbed her hands to stop her from doing so.

"Heather, you're hurting me." Emma said, slightly scared.

Heather looked at what she was doing and let go.

"Sorry….but something is wrong! There's gas in the tank!"

"Gas? Like gasoline?" Valarie said when she went to the front.

"Yes! The diesel is gone!"

The commotion Heather was causing made everyone turn their heads toward her. Buchanan made her way over there to see what was going on.

"Okay, I hear someone is freaking out about gas."

"Someone filled the tank with gas and not diesel!"

"Are you sure?"

"I am! I can smell it!"

"It must've been a mistake by one of—"

"Bullshit!" Heather interrupted as she slammed her hand against the hull of the T-44

"It wasn't me or anyone else! We all know it takes diesel and only diesel!"

"Heather, you need to calm down. Just empty the fuel tank and fill it back with diesel. The problem will then be solved.

Heather only got more aggravated.

"No! The problem is _not_ solved! Who was here during the night? Is there cameras we can check?"

"Heather, please."

"Someone either fucked up or is fucking with us! We just _can't_ ignore this!"

Buchanan just about had enough of her.

"Heather. Go outside and wait in the bus."

Heather looked at her with a stunned expression.

"What—"

"Go."

"Miss Buchanan—"

"Just go."

Utterly crestfallen, she complied and left the garage. Everyone inside was completely taken aback over what the had just witnessed. They had never seen Heather so upset, or even so emotional. Buchanan let out a disappointed sigh and spoke with Valarie.

"Get this fuel situation sorted out. After that…make sure Heather is alright, okay?"

Valarie solemnly nodded and the rest of her crew got to work replacing the fuel. The team performed their inspections in silence.

_That Night_

Her friends comforted her the best they could. Valarie had given up her bed so that she could lay on it to relax. Her eyes were closed as she laid her hands on top of her stomach, moving up and down as she took deep breaths.

"You feeling alright, Heather?" Ashley asked softly.

"Kind of." she responded emotionless.

"Hey, you saved the tank. If you didn't catch that there was gas, the engine would've been ruined. We would've got knocked out before the match even started." Valarie said to try and cheer her up.

"Yeah. Guess I did do that."

Heather reached for a blanket and pulled it on top of her.

"I want some sleep. I'm tired."

"Of course."

Valarie, Emma, and Ashley crawled into their makeshift beds and the lights were then turned off. They soon drifted asleep but Heather couldn't. She was being pestered by someone that only she could interact with. The voice has returned and was issuing her commands.

"_The garage. Go."_

She remained silent.

"_The garage. Go._

It's voice grated against her like sandpaper.

"No…" she said in a whisper.

"_Your tank needs you."_

"No…it's fine. The tank is fine."

_"The garage. Go. Now."_

Each time the voice issued its command, the more Heather grew weaker at resisting.

"_Go."_

Heather rose from the bed and quietly put on her uniform. She tip-toed out of the room and made her way outside the motel.

"_The garage."_

"I know. I'm on my way."

Heather retraced the path of the bus and soon arrived at the garage. Without hesitation, she climbed over the fence and headed for the door. Luckily for her, a student had forgotten to lock the door. Walking inside, she kept the lights off, relying on the moonlight to light her path.

"Now what?"

_"Crowbar at the shelf. Grab it."_

Heather looked and found the tool. She held it in her hand and felt the weight of it.

"Is my tank in danger?"

_"Yes. There are people here who will cause harm to it."_

"Where are they?"

"_In the office in the far corner. Look."_

Heather turned to where the voice told her to. There, she saw an office with a faint light against the window. She saw the outline of two figures inside the office.

"Alright, I see people."

_"They are the ones responsible. They need to be punished severely."_

"But, how?"

"_The answer lies within your hand."_

Heather looked at the crowbar in her grasp and swayed it back and forth in the air. She then felt compelled to walk toward the office, making sure each step she made was as quiet as possible. She began to tremble as she got closer.

"_One of the people inside will soon walkout. As soon they walk out the door, do what feels right."_

Heather was now sweating profusely, her heart rate skyrocketing. She was filled with sheer terror. She was now just beside the door. Crowbar held tightly.

"_Just wait. They will come out soon._"

Being so close to the office, that Heather could hear their voices. She laid an ear against the wall to hear what the people inside are saying.

"I don't really like be so disciplinarian but I had to do what I did. She was just so angry that she needed to leave to cool off."

"You did the right thing. Heather is one of those students who has, and I'm saying this as respectfully as I can, issues. From what I read from her file, she has this tendency to form intense attachments with objects. It's obvious now that she has formed one hell of a bond with the T-44."

"What can be done then?"

"Well, before today it has been a long while since her last emotional outburst. She's in therapy last I recall, and it is doing wonders. What we can do is simply keep an eye on her. When she needs it, we will help her."

Heather recognized the people talking inside. Then she heard one of them move toward the door. She had no idea what to do.

"_Now, here comes your chance. When that door opens, hit them hard."_

Her breathing has ceased completely. As the doorknob began to the jiggle, she thought fast and threw the crowbar across the garage, it slamming against the far wall. The door flung open as Redwood looked out.

"Huh? What was that?" he said aloud.

"Did something fall?" Buchanan asked from behind.

"Maybe. I think it was from over there. I'll check it out."

As Redwood started to look at where the sound came from, Heather quickly made her leave. As quietly as she can, she moved from tank to tank and left the garage through the door. As it closed, it made a noise, making both Buchanan and Redwood look at it.

"A window must be letting the wind in." Redwood determined

Outside, Heather was hyperventilating. She leaned against a tree nearby and over time, calmed herself. She wanted to scream but couldn't.

"You almost made me ruin my life." she said in a near whisper.

No response. The silence mocked her. She walked to the fence and climbed over it, and ran back to the motel. Once there she quietly went back to her room and slipped into bed. She couldn't believe what she had nearly done.

_Saturday_

The match was now upon them. The team got ready for the day ahead of them. In one of the rooms, the T-44 crew got dressed. Looking and heading to the bed, Valarie shook Heather awake.

"Wow, did you fall asleep in your uniform? It's gonna get all wrinkly."

Heather looked down at herself.

"Oh. I forgot I was wearing it."

"Well, you're already good to go then. You can head down to the lobby where the rest of the team is waiting."

"I think I'll stay here for a bit."

"Suit yourself."

Heather laid on the bed starting up at the ceiling as the rest of her friends finished getting ready. Emma and Valarie left the room for the lobby. Ashley stood by the door.

"Alright, let's go."

Heather remained in the bed.

"I want to talk to you about something first."

"Uh, okay."

Ashley moved away from the door and joined Heather on the bed. They sat next to each other.

"I'm just gonna guess and say this is about your little freakout yesterday."

"In a way."

Heather breathed in and out deeply.

"Last night, I snuck out and went to the garage?"

"Oh? Sneaking out? I never would've guessed you were that type of person and they are way better places to sneak off too. Why did you go?"

"Because…I was told too."

Ashley gave her a puzzled look.

"Now that's weird, I know for a fact no one told you to go there. Who did?"

Heather fidgeted with her fingers. She was incredibly nervous, and afraid. Afraid that what she was about to share would make her lose a friend. But what happened last night just couldn't be left to be bottled up in her memories

"I never told anyone this, not even my parents. It was something that I kept to myself and I always thought that it'd always be like that. But after what happened last night, I just can't do that anymore."

She moved to hold on to Ashley's hands.

"I…hear voices sometimes. Voices that want me to do certain things."

Ashley was greatly astonished

"Voices? What do you mean about that?"

"All my life I've heard, seen, smelled, and felt things that no one has. My whole life has been a struggle for maintaining a sense of reality. And to be honest, I've actually been doing that pretty well but sometimes, it gets really _really_ tough. Like last night. A voice told me to go. They told me to hurt someone. And I came real close to doing it."

Ashley looked at her with compassion and squeezed her hands with comfort.

"Heather, I cannot even begin to imagine how much strength it took to admit that. You probably thought that by sharing that would lose me as a friend."

Heather teared up and hugged her.

"I don't want to lose my friends. But I want to be honest with you and not hide something so…severe."

"You will not be abandoned, not by anyone, and sure as hell not by me. You are a strong person, that's what I like about you."

They hugged for several moments before breaking.

"Since you told me, when are you going to Emma and Valarie? They need to know so they can help you." Ashley asked.

"I will tell them soon on my own time. But when I do, I want you by my side."

"I will."

Ashley stood up and patted her pockets. She got out the CD and waved it in front of her.

"Ready?" she said with a playful smile.

Heather too stood up and stretched. She felt this renewed sense of energy and determination. A gentle smile had spread across her face as she walked to the door.

"Yep, let's go. I got a tank to drive and a match to win."


	31. Mojave Rose v. Old Dominion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The quarter-finals of the American National Tournament begins!

_Saturday, April 27th 2013_

Clouds were rolling in the area. There would often block the sun, encasing the landscape in darkness. When it did get dark, the temperature would drop and though it was spring, as Montana was so north that it was still cold. More colder than what people from Southern California are used too. Some members of the Mojave Rose team have entirely misjudged just cold this state could be and neglected to pack anything that could warm them up. For those that did, they dressed in layers and had their bandannas over their mouths to keep every bit of heat on them. The team were at the starting area of the match with all of their vehicles. At the IS-3 crew, Ray was with his crew. He was blowing into his hands to warm them up. He wished he packed some gloves.

"God damn it's too cold here." he complained.

"The inside ain't any better. It's like a fridge in there." Ryan added.

They congregated around the rear of their vehicle. Though their engine was currently off, there was still heat being radiated off of it, so they enjoyed it while they can. As they stood around, Valarie came around to speak with Ray.

"Have you seen them? The people who harassed you and your crew?"  
"None of use saw any of them. I think they waited for us to leave the motel before leaving themselves."

"Interesting…" Valarie remarked.

"…a move like that tells they want to avoid drama which is funny because they started it."

"Yeah, it's giving me some weird vibes. Between you and me, I have a feeling they're going to do something bad. But who knows exactly."

"If they are, then it's most definitely for you."

He gave her a quick nod and climbed into his machine. Valarie did the same and now all they had to do now was wait. By now, the entire team knew what happened to the IS-3 crew during the convention, especially how Ray got the worst of it. Everyone knew that today's match will be different due to one fact; the two teams did not like each other at all. While Mojave Rose expected a rivalry to occur in the tournament, it was assumed that it would all be in good fun. But, instead, what was happening now was a rivalry with anger and hate serving as its foundation. The jovial mood that would have normally existed in matches was gone, and in its place was a straight-faced seriousness. Things became less joyful when it got personal. An attack on one was an attack against all. A concept that applies to nations that Mojave Rose has wholeheartedly adopted. Tens of miles away from them, Old Dominion was at their starting area. Cassandra was walking from tank to tank giving them a quick inspection with Ellie following shyly in tow. She then stopped before a Churchill.

"Well, good going Ellie. The AVRE is here."

Ellie displayed a small smile.

"I can only hope you command your Panzer III today as good as you can follow simple instructions."

Her smile vanished. From behind them, another person joined them. Evelyn, the team's captain, was too looking at all the vehicles ready for action.

"Now these are interesting choices, Cassandra. The 105mm Shermans, the STuHs, and the AVRE? Vehicles that excel in destroying buildings and the only thing man-made around here is that abandoned town that is a stiff breeze away from toppling over."

"We can't let Mother Nature do all the work, can we? Besides, the odds are extremely good that Mojave Rose will make a move for the town as they start closer to it. Having all this firepower will be handy in an urban environment."

"Alrighty then. The heavy-hitters are under your command. I'll take the rest of the team to do what we planned."

"Of course. Just wait for my signal and we'll snatch a win."

Both teams mounted their machines and listened closely to their radios. As the time to start drew near, a multitude of engines was turned on simultaneously, creating a symphony of machinery. At the T-44, Heather was beyond relieved to hear the engine of her tank roaring with health and to smell the diesel fumes in the air. She got comfortable in her seat and patiently waited for the match to begin. In the turret, Valarie switched on her radio and briefed the team.

"Everyone knows where they need to go. As soon as I give the order, we all drive like hell to the town."

The match today was to start later than usual. The team was used to matches starting at noon, but for today, it was to begin at two o'clock. With how variable match lengths could be, there was the real possibility of the sun setting while guns were still firing. The airwaves were still when then, at the hour, words were uttered.

"Match start!"

Valarie now gave the first order of the day.

"Panzer vor!"

At once, each vehicle lurched forward and drove straight for the abandoned town. They went into their usual V-formation with the T-44 brazenly forming the tip, its flag waving in the wind as they drove on. It was an odd feeling to drive in a place so dominated by grassland with only the infrequent patch of trees breaking the monotony. For Valarie, she had this Déjà vu. She recalled a dream she had earlier in the year where she was in a similar environment. Back then she dismissed the dream as some creation of her subconsciousness, but now being in Montana, she began to think differently. It could all still be a coincidence but Valarie was beginning to suspect that there could be something more to it. She never really considered herself the type of person who attaches meanings to dream, but still, the similarities she was experiencing just couldn't be ignored. But for now, she won't let it dominate her mind, especially now where her focus was needed now more than over. After nearly an hour of uneventful driving, the ACIV and the SU-14 broke off and headed to their assigned position, a grove of trees and shrubs. The artillery piece was carefully nestled within the plants and thoroughly camouflaged, with the ACIV standing guard just nearby. The rest of the team pressed on at speed and soon the abandoned town was in sight. As expected, they have beaten the enemy team there. As Mojave Rose was drilled on the plan, the V-formation was then broken as each vehicle went to their designated position without needing radio instruction. In the town itself at strategic spots were the Stuart, Puma, and T-44. The sentries were the VK, Jumbo, Cromwell, IS-3, and Panther II. They were placed just beyond the outskirts, evenly spread around in a perimeter three miles from the town. The tank destroyers of the team, the SU-100 and Jagdpanzer IV, were placed on either side of town. They had the role of the 'first responder'. If any of the sentries radioed for assistance, then the closest tank destroyer would respond to reinforce them. As planned, the IS-3 was the most forward positioned of the sentries. They were so out there that they truly did look isolated. From where they were, the town couldn't be seen as there were hills behind them. They now just anxiously waited. Inside their vehicle, the boys prepared themselves for anything. The apprehension in the air weighed heavily on them, their hands becoming slightly sweaty. Ray frequently checked his periscopes but only saw the sea of grass flowing in the wind.

"Nothing." he remarked.

He sat back and reclined in his position.

"Man, all this waiting is gonna kill me."

He got on the radio.

"Any of the sentries seeing anything?"

He received a wave of negatives. Letting go of the radio, he sighed.

"Cool…" he muttered.

Ray resumed checking his scopes every few moments. The rest of the sentries maintained a vigilant watch, yet not vigilant enough to spot a pair of M22 Locusts spying on them, with only their periscopes appearing above the hills. They were reporting their findings to their team's leadership.

"As we have predicted, Mojave Rose has secured the town, forming a perimeter. No visual on their flag tank, most likely in the town itself." one of the Locust commanders reported.

"And their artillery?" Cassandra asked.

"Unspotted. Either in the town or someplace else entirely. We'll know for sure when the thing fires, though."

"Acknowledged. Has the IS-3 been spotted in your sweep?"

"Yes. We are looking at them now. They look like to be the farthest from anyone. Very alone."

Cassandra smirked.

"Fools. I guess I was expecting too much for them to even form a proper perimeter. We're on our way. Wait for our arrival and keep us posted on any new developments."

"Copy that."

She then cracked her knuckles.

"Alright. Time to roll out. All our heavy-hitters are to follow me to where the Locusts are. And Ellie!"

Ellie frantically grabbed her radio and responded.

"Y-yes?"

"Drive next to me. You and I are the spearhead."

"Understood."

With that, a portion of Old Dominion's were on the move. A Panzer III Ausf. L and a Sherman Firefly formed the spearhead as the heavier and powerful vehicles followed suit. They had been briefed on what they were about to do. The commanders of them were selected by Cassandra as they were the ones that shared an opinion on; the total rejection of boys in tankery. Yet, though these girls already had a low opinion of Ray and his friends, Cassandra was deadset on making sure that they _hated_ them. Over the radio during their drive, she was filling their heads with supposed 'truths' about the male tankery crew on Mojave Rose.

"Make no mistake about it. The boys that make up that IS-3 crew are horrible people. They are sexist, disgusting, and perverted. They are only in this sport for one thing and one thing alone. Use your imagination to figure out what that is. Them making this far in the tournament is an utter disgrace. We have this moral obligation to not only make them lose this match but to make them quit tankery."

In her tank, Ellie laid her head against the inner walls of the turret as she listened to Cassandra's deceitful diatribe. There was no way that she actually knew the reasons those boys joined tankery, and even if she did know the truth she wouldn't care. She told these lies to get people on her side. A toxic trait of her Ellie had come to learn early on in their deeply flawed friendship. But she remained silent throughout her speech. She feared that speaking out would enrage Cassandra to an extent that she'd send a high-velocity round her way, claiming it to be an 'unfortunate friendly fire situation'. It wouldn't be the first time. She just sighed and just did what she was told, as always. After their drive, they had linked-up with the Locusts.

"Any changes since your last report?" Cassandra questioned

"Nope."

"Did they spot you?"

"They're blind."

Delighted, Cassandra ordered the Locusts to do another sweep around the perimeter as she executes the next phase of her plan. She shouted more orders over the radio and her group complied immediately. Over at the IS-3s position, its crew was growing weary of all the waiting. At first, they were prepared and ready with a touch of fear keeping them alert. But as time went along, they calmed and let their minds wander. They just thought about the cold and how badly they wanted blankets to get snug in and something warm in their stomachs. Ray imagined drinking a piping hot cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows swimming in the sweet liquid. This period of tranquility, though, didn't last long. The distant sounds of engines were now heard by all of them, jolting them from their daydreaming.

"I'll be damned if that's not them." Ray remarked.

As he checked his scopes, Ryan had his face pressed against the sights with a finger on the trigger. Cesar was at the ready to load another shell at once, and Jeremy had his hand on the gear shift to maneuver the moment ordered. The sounds of the engines grew louder, and Ray feverishly looked out his periscope, looking at all directions but seeing nothing.

"Where are you?" he said softly.

His question was promptly answered as the ground outside his tank was then showered with explosions, rattling them. The ground around them was obliterated, pieces of the earth were flung high in the air and rained down on the. Some rounds hit the tank itself, but thanks to its heavy armor failed to penetrate, merely exploding on the steel. This fact told Ray that the enemy tanks were using high-explosive rounds. He would have thought about this fact more but the assault was incessant. The number of explosions in the area heated the hair, a pleasant silver lining.

"Well, least we ain't cold anymore!" Cesar commented

"No kidding! Alright, that's enough of that. Time to call in back-up."

Ray reached for the radio but before he could activate it there was then an ear-piercing screech as something ricocheted violently off the side of the turret, making them all wince.

"Christ! What was that?!" Ryan exclaimed

After rubbing his ears, Ray again got on his periscopes and this time around spotted something. Two IS-2s about a mile out, one of them billowing smoke from their barrel.

"Two IS-2s! God, that's a…that's a _very_ big deal! Rotate the tank ten degrees to the right, make our pike face them!"

The tank maneuvered in the nick of time as the other IS-2 opened fire, bouncing a shot on the hull. The heavy-caliber of the IS-2's cannon, also a 122mm, made the IS-3 shake violently when it bounced a shell from them. At this range and with the armor facing them, the enemy IS-2s won't penetrate them but weathering their shots will be a hellish experience they will have to endure. As another shot was bounced, Ryan gave Ray a tap.

"How about some reinforcements, yeah?"

"Oh! You right!"

Ray grabbed the radio and activated it.

"_Oasis, _we're under heavy fire. Two IS-2s and other unknown vehicles. Need some back-up here."

Ray waited and got no reply. All he heard was the shelling occurring just outside. Puzzled, he spoke into the radio again.

"Hello? _Oasis_? Anyone? We're getting bombarded here!"

Still nothing. His machine continued to receive volley after volley of enemy fire. He took a closer look at the radio, twisting some dials. Ray the noticed that in his headsets that nothing was being heard, not even static. He then took them off. The radio was dead, knocked out by the initial hit from one of the IS-2s.

"We've got no radio. We're on our own." Ray announced.

"Surely, they'll notice when we don't check-in?" Cesar said.

"Yeah, but who knows when that happens. Besides, for all we know, the rest of the team is engaging the enemy."

Back on his sights, he looked at the IS-2s, one of them firing and ricocheting another shot.

"Rotate the turret fifteen degrees to the east. Target the IS-2 on the left."

The IS-3 took aim at the IS-2, its commander beginning to feel uneasy.

"Why haven't we taken them out yet? We have the same gun!" she yelled.

"Their armor is too thick!" her gunner reported.

They were then staring down the barrel of the IS-3.

"God….another shell! Quickly!"

Before their loader could even move a muscle, a muzzle flash from the IS-3 delivered an armor-piercing round right to the front of its hull, the impact jolting them pack a bit. From the smoke, a white flag appeared on the top of its turret.

"Load another shell, target the last IS-2." Ray instructed.

The two-chamber ammunition of the 122mm was brought together and the completed shell was inserted into the breech, but before it could be fired, the shelling on them intensified. So much so that they couldn't return fire as all their visuals were shrouded by thick gray smoke. The only option at their disposal was to weather the storm and hope that by the end of it they'll make it out intact.

In the town, the situation was calm. All the reports Valarie was getting were nominal. As far as she knows, the enemy has not yet been spotted. Yet the distant thuds of guns intrigued her. She went back and forth in her mind trying to determine what it all meant. If it was combat, surely one of her sentries would inform the team if such things were happening. Paying close attention, she did come to the conclusion that the sounds of faraway cannon fire were roughly in the direction Ray's tank was positioned at. But since Ray hasn't said anything about it, she didn't react at first. But when the sounds of those guns grew in ferocity, she decided to contact Ray.

"_Juniper, _anything to report?"

Silence.

"_Juniper, _come in."

Just static was the reply.

"I don't like this at all." she said gravely.

In one of the edges of town, Natalie in her Jagdpanzer IV looked worryingly in the direction where the distant guns were firing. She had been nervously waiting for Ray to give the call for support but it didn't come. No one has heard from in for half an hour. She grew frustrated and concerned. Then her radio came alive.

"_Mesquite, _go to _Juniper. _Investigate what's going out there."

"Roger that!"

The Jagdpanzer IV drove on to the IS-3's position. As they got closer, the louder the assault was. This caused Natalie's concern to grow to new heights. Why wasn't Ray talking to anyone? She asked that question again and again in her mind, her breathing becoming quickened. Soon, they crested a hill and saw the carnage laid before them. Around the IS-3 was a field of craters, pieces of soil flung in all possible directions. The tank itself was being mercilessly pelted by round after round. Every few seconds, explosions would hit both on the ground near the tank and on the machine. Then there were the bounces from the IS-2s, whose immense energy caused Natalie and her crew to watch in awe over how much abuse the IS-3 was enduring. They were still in the fight as Natalie couldn't see a white flag in their turret but it was clear to them that they needed help. Getting on her scopes, she sighted several tanks unleashing volley upon volley on the besieged heavy tank.

"Take aim west two-thirty. M4 Sherman."

Her gunner, Barbara, made out the range. She hesitated a bit as she felt something was amiss but was confident that the range was set.

"Target acquired." she informed.

"Fire."

The tank destroyer let loose a round and it missed wildly, soaring over the intending target.

"What?!" she yelled out.

"How the hell did that happen? Another shell!" Natalie ordered.

Another shell went into the breech and Barbara ranged her target again, double-checking her work. She then fired and this time the round was planted just meters in front of them, splashing them with portions of the ground. Bewildering them all.

"What the fuck!" Barbra yelled out angrily.

Natalie rubbed her shoulders to get her to calm down.

"Take it easy, take it easy. Check your sight, something is wrong with it."

After taking a deep breath, Barbara inspected her sight, coming to a startling discovery.

"It's all decalibrated to hell. How in the world did that happen?" she said.

Working quickly she got her sight recalibrated, rectifying the issue.

"Alright! Now we can go right to business. Another shell, please."

A third shell was loaded into the gun. By now some of the enemy tanks took notice of their misfires and began taking potshots at them. Ignoring them, Barbara made out the range and was completely confident in her work.

"Target acquired."

"Fire."

A round was shot and their aim was true. The turret of the 105mm Sherman was hit, knocking them out. Being able to more quickly load shells than the IS-3 the Jagdpanzer IV eliminated three more vehicles, two more 105mm Shermans and a STuH 42. These actions caused the enemy to cease fire and pull back. Now, a blanket of silence covered the area. Not wasting a moment, the Jagdpanzer drove right up next to the IS-3. Natalie then popped out her hatch and banged on the hull of the tank to get their attention. Out came Ray, sweating profusely, his uniform stained and undone. He looked exhausted yet undeterred. He greeted her with a smile.

"Are you okay? We tried to raise you on the radio but couldn't reach you." Natalie asked with worry in her voice.

"Oh, we're having a blast. Me and the guys just love all the attention we're getting from the girls around here."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop a small smile from appearing on her face.

"And your radio?"

"Got busted when this little fight started."

Natalie thought about what to do to solve this problem. When the solution hit her, she snapped her fingers.

"Your phone. We can just call each other to communicate. My number is—"

"I already know your number because we're all in the team's group chat."

"Oh. Well. Okay. Ha…that's that problem solved."

For some odd reason, Natalie felt disappointed that it wasn't herself that gave Ray her number but didn't dwell on it too long. There were more pressing concerns.

"So, what now?" she asked.

"Let's just sit tight. My crew needs a breather from the hell we just went through."

Over a mile from where they were, Cassandra with her remaining group took stock of the situation. She was most displeased over losing four vehicles in a relatively short amount of time and was angrier that the IS-3 was still in play. In her Firefly, she contemplated in silence as her crew waited for further orders. After a minute of thinking, she slowly opened her eyes and clenched her hand into a fist.

"I know what we need to do know."

She got out of her tank and scanned her immediate area. One feature caught her eye. There was a small depression in the ground just nearby. The perfect place for the dreadful plan she had created. She got back into her tank and issued the next order.

"I want each of the tanks here to take two high-explosive shells and put them in that depression in the ground."

None of her commanders immediately responded.

"Are you all deaf?" she insulted.

"Why do you want to put some of our ammo there?" asked the remaining IS-2 commander.

"Why are you asking questions? Just do it!" she screamed over the radio.

Scared into submission, the commanders complied and each got out two high-explosive shells from their vehicles. They were packed into the depression. These commanders that Cassandra has selected now became concerned over what was happening. She took note of the look on their faces.

"What's with the looks? I choose you people because of your _unwavering_ resolve to save tankery. Don't anyone of you dare have second-thoughts!"

They all looked uncomfortable but did not object. Cassandra then brought a shell of her own and laid it on top of the pile. She knelt down and began fiddling with its fuse. From her Panzer III, Ellie became alarmed and left her tank to see what's going on, There, she saw the other commanders looking uneasy as they all watched Cassandra working on the pile. Ellie approached her meekly.

"Hey, uh, Cassandra. Watcha doin' here?" she asked shakily.

"Making an IED."

Ellie rubbed her eat vigorously

"Oh, my hearing must be bad. I thought you said IED."

"I did." Cassandra confirmed as she stood up.

"A…IED?" Ellie said aghast.

"I've modified the fuse of a shell to be very sensitive. The new plan will be to now bait the IS-3 to drive over the depression with the packed explosions. The sensation of being driven over will detonate the shell with the sensitive fuse, setting off a chain reaction right under their asses."

"B-but, all those shells exploding together in tight space would—"

"Ellie, go back to your tank and resume being overwatch."

The stern look Cassandra was giving her was enough to force her back to her Panzer III. Back in her tank, she buried her face in her hands. What Cassandra has told the group what she intended to do horrified them all. Even the commanders that joined her in their harassment of Ray and his friends at the convention were uncomfortable as well. None of them understood what Cassandra meant by 'escalation' when she said it all those weeks ago, but what was happening was something they didn't expect at all, it was too extreme. But not a soul among them had the courage to object. Everyone returned to their vehicles and awaited further instructions. One of the STuH commanders had something to say to Cassandra about a related matter.

"Cassandra, we're baiting the IS-3, that I understand, but what about the other tank that came to back them up?"

"What about them?" she said dismissively

"They did take out three of our tanks, though it took them like a minute get into shape. They missed real bad twice.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, one shot went way over and the next was planted into the ground."

Cassandra slowly stroked her chin. She knew the vehicle being talked about.

"The Jagdpanzer. It looks like the bitch from the convention has come to save her boyfriend, how cute. Now she gets to watch the IS-3 gets blown to kingdom come."

The group moved forward to their original positions. They did so carefully and just stopped before fully getting into the line of sight. They all loaded their guns so that they can let loose a powerful volley. Just before Cassandra ordered them to attack, one of the Locust commanders sent her a radio message.

"Cassandra, we were doing our sweep around their perimeter and spotted their Panther II. We saw some of their crew out of their hatches and upon taking a closer look, we saw a guy being apart of their crew. He was talking with the commander, I think."

There was a disgusted face on her when she heard that news.

"Just when I thought Mojave Rose couldn't be any worse, they have the audacity to allow a coed tank crew! No doubt that guy already groped the girls in that Panther II. We'll take them out right after we destroy that IS-3. Press on and bait the bastards to the trap!"

Over at Ray's position, the respite from the intense combat was very welcome and enjoyed but they didn't allow themselves to let their guard down. Another attack was forthcoming, they felt it in the air so they prepared. The Jagdpanzer was situated on a hill behind them. Over the phone, Ray and Natalie talked.

"I've told the rest of the team about our situation. Valarie wants the perimeter to shrink so that everyone is closer together." Natalie informed.

"Good idea. Let's pull back and—"

His speech was interrupted by a series of explosions hitting him and the ground that surrounded the tank. Manning the periscopes yet again, he saw that Old Dominion have resumed their attack. All the action thus far in the day has worn thin Ray's restraint. He and his crew were increasingly becoming sick and tired of being singled out and being the sole target of concentrated fire. So tired of every few seconds the ground heaving as shell after shell of high-explosive exploded just outside the steel walls of their machine. Then there was that IS-2. They couldn't penetrate them but that fact didn't stop them from shooting. Each bounce from its 122mm cannon rocked the IS-3, the sound of its impact echoing inside the fighting compartment. They won't take it anymore.

"I've had it with all this bullshit! We are going to silence their damn guns! Ray declared.

The IS-3 marched on toward the direction of enemy fire, defiant. Natalie looked on astounded.

"No Ray…I mean _Juniper_! Come back! We gotta do what Valarie says and fall back!"

"Either their guns go quiet or we do. You're more than welcome to stay where you are."

Natalie rubbed her face, frustrated. The tone of his voice told her that he was deadset on driving on and won't be persuaded. A path that she could not follow because her tank destroyer wasn't nearly as armored as the IS-3. Though her not following was not the same as not supporting. She reached for her radio.

"_Sierra_, requesting a fire mission. Coordinates as follows…"

The IS-3 was a fish and Old Dominion were eager anglers. They fired barrage after barrage as they reversed with the IS-3 following. Cassandra watched as her prey approached her trap, smiling devilishly. They were just one hundred meters from the IED and were so deep in a tunnel-vision that they failed to notice the collection of brass directly ahead of them. Ellie in her tank watched, full of dread, as the heavy tank drove on. She hoped and prayed that they would see the trap and come screeching to a halt but the little optimism she had evaporated as they just kept going. The IS-3 has slowed to a snail's pace as the turret moved to pick out a target. Now, Old Dominion has ceased firing so that a stray round wouldn't hit the trap.

"Almost there, asshole. Keep going." Cassandra muttered.

Ellie was now trembling. They were not stopping. Not unless they could be made aware of the danger just ahead of them. Her crew was as fearful as she was.

"I feel sick." her gunner reported.

"I'm closing my eyes. I don't want to see the explosion." added her loader.

"I wish we could just jump out of our hatches and yell at them to stop, but Cassandra would see that and be furious on a whole 'nother level." said her radio operator.

Ellie, whose face was pressed against her scopes, reclined to look the radio operator.

"Telling them…that's it! We will warn them over the radio!"

"I don't know their frequency and even if I did they will surely be on some preset. It'd just be like trying to break the Enigma machine!"

Ellie thought frantically as she thought of an alternative for communication. As she nearly entered into a panic, she then felt the sunlight disappear as clouds overhead rolled in to darken the area. This little event gave her the answer.

"The headlights!" she exclaimed.

"What about them?" her driver asked.

"Flash them a warning in morse code!"

"What if they don't know it?"

"Oh! We gotta try! It's the only thing we can do!"

Complying, her driver began to flash a morse code message with their headlights at the IS-3. It got the attention of the heavy tank and stopped.

"Oh thank God." Ellie uttered.

At the IS-3, Ray viewed the actions of the Panzer III as annoying. The flashing lights irritated his eyes when he looked at them through his periscope.

"That Panzer III is trying to psyche us out. Take aim and fuck them up. Once done, we resume driving."

The turret of the IS-3 turned and the Panzer III was then terrified to see the barrel of their 122mm aimed right at them.

"God! They don't know what we're doing!" the driver exclaimed.

"We're gonna get blasted!"

Ellie couldn't make a sound. She just braced for an impact. In the IS-3, Ryan had their tank right in his sights. The range was found and the finger was on the trigger.

"Target…wait a second."

He watched the Panzer III's flashes. Once thinking they were just random, as he paid more attention to them he saw that there was a pattern to them.

"Ray, I think…I think that Panzer III is sending us a message with its headlights."

"Yeah? I'm taking a look."

On the scopes, he took another look at their flashing headlights.

"Hmm. That's morse code if I ever saw it. Now, let's see what they're saying…"

He squinted to focus.

"Alright…I…E…what's that last letter? I…E…D. Huh? IED? Oh, there's more. IED, yeah I got that, A…H…E…A…D. Then it repeats. IED ahead. Hmm. IED sounds familiar. Any of you guys got a guess what that word means?"

Cesar grabbed him on the uniform and shook him.

"It means there's a fucking mine ahead, Ray!" he yelled.

"Mine?!" Ray shouted.

"Full reverse! Full reverse, now!"

Their tank backed-up at full speed. Ray examined the ground in front of them and saw a pile of shells in the depression.

"Man, I _literally_ did not see that! Ryan, use the coaxial to blow those shells up!"

Once the IS-3 reversed enough to get the gun down low enough, Ryan shot at the trap. A few rounds from the machine gun was enough to cook off the rounds, setting off a brilliant explosion that made their vision vibrate. What remained was a crater as portions of the ground rained back down on the earth. Ellie and her crew let out huge sighs of relief. She then paid attention to the radio to hear Cassandra's reaction but all she heard was a chilling silence. None of the commanders dared to speak.

"What do you think she is feeling right now?" the Panzer III gunner asked Ellie.

"Unimaginable fury." was her reply.

Not even a moment later was where they then heard a piercing whistle coming from the sky followed by a large explosion that rattled them all. Looking outside, Ellie saw that the last remaining IS-2 was knocked out, white flag waving. The radio then sounded.

"That must be Mojave Rose's artillery. The trajectory tells me that it's not in the town but somewhere else." Cassandra said with a neutral tone.

"What's, uh, next then?" asked a Sherman commander.

"I will signal for Evelyn to join us. We will combine our forces and attack en masse on their perimeter. All the while, their artillery will be hunted. I got just the tank in mind to take them out."

Ellie turned her attention back to the IS-3. They had aimed back at her causing her to tense up but they didn't fire. She saw that the barrel of their gun was going up and down in elevation in an intentional fashion.

"You're welcome." Ellie said quietly with a gentle smile.

The IS-3 reversed though as no one was shooting at them, they quickly turned and drove quickly away. What they had just experienced was bizarre but very welcome.

"Well, looks like it's not the whole team that hates us. At least one crew shows sympathy, thank God." Ray remarked.

He got out his phone and called Natalie.

"Did you win?" she immediately asked.

"Uh, well, let's call it a draw. We're pulling back."

"At least you're still in the fight. We'll drive with you back to the town."

The two vehicles drove back to the town. There, they saw the new perimeter in place. The sentries were now only a half-mile from the town, everyone was in a much better position to assist each other should the need arise. It was now five o'clock and dusk was beginning to settle in. The wind went away, ushering in a silence in the area. The IS-3 drove into town to not only to finally have a chance to take a break from the intense action but also because Ray wanted to speak with Valarie personally. The Jagdpanzer IV took his place as a sentry on the perimeter. Joining up with Valarie, she could see the battering his tank has received. It was almost entirely covered with the leftover black residue from all the explosions it has endured mixed in with stains of dirt and grass from the earth that was ravaged from the assault. Then there was the odd dent here and there. Getting out of his vehicle, Ray's appearance matched. Totally disheveled, faint soot on his face. Outside his tank and feet on the ground, he took a lungful of the clean air.

"I've had quite the day so far." he said.

"God, that's putting it lightly. You look like you came out from an actual battlefield. Your crew alright?" Valarie questioned.

"We're all good but we would love to just have a little break."

"Yeah, yeah, you got it. You can remain in the town for now. Tell me, how bad was it?"

"Well, imagine not being able to think because every single damn gun in the world decided to shoot at you non-stop. We did manage to take out one of their IS-2s, Natalie came and knocked out three more, and I'm assuming _Sierra _delivered a gift from above on their other IS-2."

Valarie chuckled.

"They sure did."

"But the wildest thing is..." Ray said, getting closer to her.

"...about their Panzer III. Its crew sent us a warning."

Valarie looked at him befuddled.

"Members of the enemy team sent you a warning? People from a team that has made it clear that they don't like us?"

"Well, evidently, that crew at least pities us. They flashed a message in morse code with their headlights."

"Oh wow! Good thing we learned morse code!" Valarie remarked with amazement.

"Nice to see it's paying off. So what's the plan now? Still on the defensive?"

"Yes, we are. With the perimeter much tighter, we can respond to things much more quickly."

"Fine by me. We'll just be sitting tight. You'll know where to find us."

Ray returned to his vehicle in the center of town. For an hour, nothing happened. The sun continued to get lower on the horizon. The shadows being cast by the buildings were long. In a position beyond the perimeter, the SU-14 and the ACIV were still in the grove of trees that they got into when the match began. The artillery piece had a round at the ready and the ACIV was on guard, checking their surroundings for any enemy movement. The match for them was rather uneventful, other than when the SU-14 fired a shot at Natalie's request. Within the self-propelled gun, the crew grew restless. They wanted to shoot more.

"Man, this is nothing like the Arizona match." Jacqueline complained.

"But we only fired twice during that match." Amber, one of the gunners, noted.

"Yeah, but one of those shots got ten tanks! That was a thrill! We only fired once and got just one tank."

"This is on the other team. They need to attack more." Gwendolyn said, the other gunner.

"Yeah! Once they assault the town, then we'll be flinging rounds left and right!" boasted Raven, one of the loaders.

The radio cut into their conversation.

"_Sierra, _this is _Acacia_, we got enemy tanks in sight five hundred meters south-east from us. But...they're not shooting."

"Huh? The other team has found us but they're not shooting?" Jacqueline inquired.

"No. Two M22 Locusts, light tanks. They are just looking at us."

"That's just weird. Take them out. We'll reposition after this."

The ACIV moved to attack the enemy scouts but merely rotating its turret made the Locusts scurry away.

"Ha! Too scared huh? Can't blame ya! The 17-pounder is nothing to mess with!" Robin exclaimed.

The Locusts peaked out again and again to keep the attention of the ACIV and SU-14. On the other side from their grove, came rumbling a Churchill. The slow-moving tank eventually was one hundred meters from them. The ACIV and SU-14 were so focused on the Locusts that they completely failed to notice the tank. The Locusts then pulled back for one last time.

"Well, guess they're too scared!" Jacqueline said.

She then just happened to glance in the other direction and went pale.

"Hey. That wasn't there before." she uttered quietly

The Churchill AVRE launched its Petard mortar right at them. The 290mm projectile flew clumsily in the air and twenty-eight pounds of high-explosive discharged producing a violent explosion. The vehicles were jolted and rattled and when the smoke cleared, a white flag appeared on the top of each.

"Hahaha! Twofer! I got a twofer!" the AVRE gunner said, laughing maniacally.

Old Dominion has now made sure that now the skies will no longer be a source of danger for them. With the SU-14 and ACIV now eliminated from play, and with the remaining of Mojave Rose's vehicles essentially in the same place, their next course of action was clear. Just west of the town, both Cassandra's and Evelyn's groups of tanks combined. Fifteen vehicles ready for action.

"With our combined strength focused on one part of their perimeter, they will buckle and be forced to pull back. Once their perimeter is broken, Mojave Rose will most certainly retreat into the town." Evelyn told the team

"And that is where we'll shell them to hell. We'll bring the buildings down on top of them!" Cassandra said.

"Actually, I'm changing the plan a bit."

"What?"

"Shelling the town, destroying it, is a bit too brutish for my taste. That's what they do in war. Tankery is not war, it's a sport. And in a sport, there is this grace."

"So, what are we doing then?"

"We are going to do something another tankery team did in some foreign match I read about. We'll surround the town and offer them the opportunity to surrender. With our tanks in all directions, they'll be more open to that idea."

Cassandra couldn't believe what she hearing but knew that she couldn't overrule the will of the captain. Begrudgingly, she went with the now revised plan. Old Dominion drove on and initiated the attack. The air, filled with intense cannon fire, alarmed the entirety of Mojave Rose. At the town, Valarie received a frantic message.

"The entire enemy team is right in front of us!" Marielle reported.

"_Arroyo_, just how many tanks can you see?" Valarie asked.

"Uh...uh...fifteen! All coming toward us!"

"Fall back to the town!"

"On our-"

The radio was then filled with the sound with an impact followed by static. The VK has been knocked out, cutting off radio contact with them. Acting quickly, Valarie issued the following order.

"All sentries must head into the town. The perimeter has been breached."

At once, the tanks posted on the outskirts turned around and raced to the town, hastily getting into positions behind buildings. With the perimeter now dismantled, Old Dominion surrounded the town and as quickly as the shooting began, they stopped. Mojave Rose was now under siege. All possible routes out of the town were now under the enemy's control. Valarie in her T-44 now thought about what to do next.

"Ugh...what a place to be in."

"Hey, it's not like we've never been trapped before. Remember our first match? We just need to stage another breakout." Emma said.

"Yeah, a breakout, though this time around we're in an urban environment with the enemy on all sides. Smoke shells won't be as good this time around. We gotta think of something else."

As they thought of a solution, a voice came from the radio.

"_Oasis_, we see two people of the enemy team walking to the center of town. One of them holding a white flag." Aurora reported.

Valarie looked at the radio receiver.

"Uh...okay? I'll head on over to meet them."

"What does this mean?" Ashley wondered.

"I'll find out." Valarie said.

She hopped out of the tank and walked toward the center of town. It was now fully into the evening with the sun now setting. There, she found two people from the other team, with one indeed holding a white flag. She approached them and crossed her arms.

"Alright. What is all this?" Valarie asked.

"My captain sends the following message." one of the girls said

She cleared her throat and got out a piece of paper.

"You are surrounded. Any attempts to stage a breakout will be met with overwhelming firepower. Save yourself from the costs and labor of repairing your vehicles and surrender. You may write down on this paper to confirm your surrender."

Valarie was insulted by this, becoming angry and pointing at them.

"If my team is going to lose, it'll be in a blaze of glory, not with the stroke of a pen! If you want to win, you'll have to dig us out of here one by one."

The girls from the other team were unsettled but remained composed.

"Regardless, you have one hour to think it over. Good-bye."

They left and Valarie stormed off back to her tank. Her crew noted her anger and asked what happened.

"What did they want?" Emma questioned.

"They asked for us to surrender. Can you believe that?"

"No. Absolutely not. We will break-out of here!" Heather added.

"Oh, we will, and thankfully we got some time to plan it out. They gave us an hour to 'think' about surrendering." Valarie informed.

She got out a map and studied it.

"Hmm. This main road is the best way outta here. It leads to this creek just a few miles out. We'll cross it and organize a defensive line."

"Good plan, good plan, but, uh, how do we break-out?" Ashley asked.

Valarie then felt her pockets vibrating. Reaching into them, she got out her phone and saw that Ray was calling her. She answered.

"Ray? Why are you calling me?"

"My radio is dead, remember?"

"Oh...right. What's up."

"From where I am, I saw some enemy tanks driving just into the edge of town. They positioned themselves just behind some of the more outermost buildings west of me."

"Right by the main road?"

"Yep."

"Well...that complicates things."

The call ended and Valarie got back to the map.

"Alright, so, some of the enemy tanks are in the town...here." she said circling around an area.

Then the radio came on.

"_Oasis_, we see some tanks moving in. They saw us when they were moving but didn't shoot. They are behind some buildings now." Paige reported.

"And where are they?"

"West of the town."

"Great..."

Valarie circled more on the map.

"Okay, with what Ray and Paige reported, a good chunk of the enemy team has secured the western part of town. The main road is thoroughly guarded."

She sighed.

"So, how hard did things become?" Ashley asked.

"Very. The best direction to break-out from has a bunch of guns protecting it. If only they weren't in cover, then things would be more doable."

"Oh, so you want them to break cover?"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"Ya know, people who are scared often make rash decisions. Like, maybe, breaking cover."

Valarie grinned as she understood what she meant. She leaned down and grabbed something tucked in a corner. Out came a stereo. She held it in her hands, smiling.

"I'm really glad I brought it now."

"Likewise." Ashley remarked as she was handed the device.

"Okay, so, you will sneak into one of the buildings and play the CD. You have to be very quiet or else they'll figure out what's going on."

"Oh, believe me, I know how to be quiet to avoid detection."

"Great. Once they break cover, we'll begin the break-out. We'll pick you up on the way out."

With that, Ashley hopped out of the tank and stealthily made her way to the enemy's position. She went by building after decrepit building being as quiet as she could. With the sun going down, the inside of them was shrouded in complete darkness. There was an eeriness in the air though she shelved those feelings to focus on the task at hand. Soon, she reached on the buildings closest to Old Dominion. An old house. She carefully entered through where the door used to be in and walked on the rotting wood floor, each step making a creak. She made another step and there was another creak. She stopped. Some of the enemy team were just on the other side of the house. She reduced her breathing and stood still, listening intensely. She heard the faint sound of conversation. She took another step forward and listened again. They were still talking in a relaxed tone. Relieved, she moved forward and cautiously climbed some rickety stairs. On the second floor of the house, she got into a room with a window that faced Old Dominion's position.

"Perfect." she said in a whisper.

She set the stereo down and popped in the CD. As she was setting up, she could hear the conversation outside much clearer. Not resisting an opportunity to eavesdrop, she listened in.

"All this waiting is such a drag. Why not just rush 'em and be done with it?" one asked.

"It's all part of the captain's plan. I don't mind it really. I'll take any chance to just relax."

"This town is creepy and I'm bored."

"Bored? Well, I do have a story to share."

"If it's a ghost story, I'm don't want to hear it.

"No, no, not a ghost story. Something more...relevant and dramatic."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. But promise me this, you don't go sharing this story of mine. If it gets out, Cassandra would be hugely upset."

"Well, go on then!"

"People have told me that some members of this team did a little something to Mojave Rose's vehicles prior to the match. They broke into the garage where their vehicles were storied and did some 'unscheduled maintenance'.

The other girl let out a surprised laugh. Ashley above was shocked over what she was hearing. Looking at the stereo, she found that there was a record function. She turned it on

"And what kind of 'maintenance' did they do?"

"The unhelpful kind. Their Jagdpanzer IV had its sights played with and the T-44, the tank of their captain, had its regular diesel replaced with gasoline. Oh, if only they didn't find out so soon. They would've ruined their engine. Oh well, we're gonna win anyway. The hour is almost up."

Above in the room, Ashley smirked as she turned off the recording.

"I got your confession, you sons of bitches. Now, time to turn this place into a haunted house."

She turned the volume up to maximum and pressed play. The stereo first played the sound of an old-school telephone ringing loudly. Outside, the girls were startled.

"What the hell? Is that...that a phone ringing?" one asked.

"There...there shouldn't be phones in there. And if they are, they shouldn't be working!" another said.

The ringing continued, unsettling them. More girls near them took notice and watched.

"I'm, uh, not very comfortable right now. Can we move to another place?"

"Um, we, have to, uh, ask the captain first..."

The ringing ceased and now they all heard the chilling chimes of a grandfather clock.

"I don't like one bit."

One girl approached the house and peaked her head through a window. She heard the source of the noises coming from up the stairs, with the top of them shrouded in darkness. Shuddering, she backed out.

"Like hell I'm going up there."

"Nope, I'm not going up either."

"Same here."

The chiming continued when the soon stopped. In its place was the dreadful wails of a newborn baby. They were now beginning to panic.

"God, that place is haunted!"

Some of them were now trembling with fear as they all watched the house. A few of them began to nervously back up. In the room, Ashley held a hand over her mouth to stop laughing. The wails of the baby then went into the next and final part of the CD; the eerie music from the twenties. It played a song with vocals high-pitched and distorted. It was scratchy and stuttered every now and then. The people outside were filled with fear. Looking around the room, Ashley found something amazing lying on the floor. An old, decaying doll.

"Perfect, perfect, perfect!"

She reached down and grabbed it. She peeked outside in a way no one could see her. She then took a few steps back and threw the doll out the window. It landed just before one of the girls. That was all they could take. Screaming, they all rushed back to their vehicles and began to hurriedly drive away from the 'haunted' home. Seeing all this, Cassandra got on the radio.

"What the hell are you guys doing?!"

She didn't get a coherent response. All the people were talking over each other in a frenzied manner. Over at the town center, Valarie was watching intently and saw a number of vehicles breaking cover, bumping into each other as they tried to move fast.

"Now's our chance! _Juniper_, take point!"

"With pleasure!"

The IS-3 drove on with the rest of the team following close behind. With Old Dominion's hold on the western part of town in shambles, they were in no position to put up a defense as Mojave Rose came rushing down the main road.

"Shoot on the move!" Valarie ordered.

Tanks on the team opened fired on Old Dominion's vehicles, taking out five of them in rapid succession. The confusion from the 'ghosts' and the break-out action of Mojave Rose was so great that none of them managed to return fire. Valarie made a quick stop to pick up Ashley and Mojave Rose drove on the main road out of town and back onto the plains. When the dust cleared, Cassandra was apoplectic.

"Incompetent idiots! Ghosts aren't real you dumbasses! Now Mojave Rose has broken the siege! Give chase! Now!"

The remaining ten tanks of Old Dominion reorganized and began the pursuit. Mojave Rose drove fast, already having about a mile of separation between the two teams. After some time driving, they made it to the creek. They quickly crossed the small body of water and were on the other side. There, Valarie again checked the map.

"Alright, we are cutting it close here. The enemy is too close so we don't have enough time to properly form a defensive line. So instead, we're going to splinter into groups._ Nomad_, _Mirage_, and _Yucca_ is one group. _Ocotillo_, _Sonora_, and _Owl _will be another._ Juniper _and I will be the third group. We will head into three different directions to confuse the enemy. Copy?"

The entire team responded in the affirmative and they went into the groups as instructed. The three groups drove in separate directions and soon lost sight of each other. The third group, the IS-3 and T-44, drove north. In the T-44, Ashley used the relative calm to inform Valarie of what she had overheard.

"Val, when I was in that house, I heard something startling. Like, real bad."

"Like what? They got a platoon of Maus tanks waiting for us?"

"No, something serious. I overheard some girls on their team talking about how others did things to our tanks before we got here."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Some people from Old Dominion sabotaged our tanks. They talked about how they messed with the gun sights of the Jagdpanzer, and uh..."

"And what?"

Ashley looked nervously toward Heather, who she knew was listening closely. She lowered her voice to a whisper.

"...they swapped out the diesel on this tank for gas."

She wasn't quiet enough as the tank then swerved greatly before being corrected.

"I knew it! It wasn't a mistake! It was sabotage! Those rancid bitches! I'll kill them!"

"Heather! Calm down! We'll deal with them in due time. For now, focus on driving" Valarie said.

Heather gripped the steering levers tightly as she took deep breaths. In the turret, the three girls continued to converse.

"I happen to have their confession on your stereo, Valarie." Ashley said.

"Good, we have proof."

"We gotta tell the match officials about this. Sabotage is surely against the rules so they'll stop the match and give us the win for sure!" Emma suggested.

Valarie pondered her suggestion. But shook her head.

"We will not lose by surrendering nor will we win by default. We will hand them a defeat with our guns."

An explosion was heard just outside, with a spray of dirt flying in the air. Looking back, Valarie saw a few enemy tanks hot on their heels. One of them had a flag on top of them. She gasped.

"Their flag tank is leading a pursuit against us? Bold."

"May I offer us turning around to face them, _Oasis_, while you press on?" Ray said over the radio.

Valarie smiled.

"By all means. Give them hell."

The IS-3 braked hard and turned its front toward the pursuing enemy and drove on. It was four Shermans, two with the 105mm howitzer, another with the longer, high-velocity 76mm, with the fourth having the longest gun of the bunch, a 17-pounder.

"These ladies want to dance. Let's give them one, shall we? Prepare to fire!" Ray ordered.

The IS-3 halted in place and its turret took aim at one the first Shermans it saw. At the press of a trigger, one the 105mm Shermans was hit by a massive round from the 122mm, coming to a stop, smoke, and flame emanating from where it was hit.

"Another!"

Cesar as fast as he could loaded another round into the breech. The remaining Shermans let loose their volley, shaking their machine. With blood rushing, he reloaded in record time.

"Ready!"

"The Sherman on the right!" Ray commanded.

The turret swiveled and the gun fired, ending the last 105mm Sherman. The last two vehicles accelerated to their position. The Sherman with the 76mm then rammed into the IS-3, jolting both crews. The IS-3's gun was stopped from traversing with the gun of the Sherman. The Firefly drove past them and went over a hill, leaving from view.

"Huh? I thought we were the main target here!" Ray exclaimed

He got on the radio.

"_Oasis_, the enemy flag tank is after you! Watch your six!"

He then returned his attention to the Sherman grinding against his front.

"We're going to make you regret that. Jeremy, full throttle!"

The engine of the IS-3 revved as it pushed against the Sherman. With its immense weight, the medium tank was pushed against and dragged against the ground. The turret of the IS-3 was then turned, and as it was much more powerful, pushed the gun of the Sherman away. They fought back and the two tanks were now in a 'sword' fight. But it was shortlived. The strain of the IS-3's gun pushing against the Sherman's overwhelmed their turret's hydraulics, causing them to break. The Sherman, now without turret traverse, could not move the gun. The IS-3 pushed their tank all the way to a hill, sinking a portion of the Sherman into the ground. Stuck, they couldn't move and the IS-3 reversed. They aimed their now free gun right at the center of their hull and planted a shot at point-blank range. Thoroughly eliminated from the match, Ray was content over the carnage he has inflicted.

"Now...that...was...satisfying. Now, let's move!"

A few miles from them, the T-44 drove along the plains. They moved with great speed. With Ray's warning in mind, Valarie frequently checked her rear. Soon, a tank came into view, cresting a hill. It was the Firefly. She saw its turret move and then a flash.

"Brake!" she yelled.

The T-44 came to a screeching halt, with the ground right in front of them exploding.

"Drive on!"

They resumed driving and drove around a hill, with the Firefly racing to catch up. The T-44 followed a natural path but then found themselves nearly crashing into a grove of trees. It was too thick to drive through. Valarie looked to the left and right to see what was the faster way to go around the vegetation but before she could make a decision, she heard the sound of clattering tracks behind her. Out of her hatch and turning around, she looked to find the Firefly aiming right down their rear. Yet not firing. The Firefly drove forward, still aiming, and once close enough, out came the commander from her hatch.

"The captain of Mojave Rose, I presume?" Cassandra asked mockingly.

Valarie answered with a nod.

"Ah, yes. The captain of the team ruining this sport."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"You know precisely what I'm talking about! You, as a captain, has a duty to ensure that boys have no place in the sport. You failed your duty. And look what it brought you."

"Look what it brought me? It brought me all the way to the quarter-finals. But that success has nothing to do with gender. All I care about is that the people on my team do their best. And they have. All the boys and girls. I can't ask for better teammates. In actuality, it is you and your team who is ruining tankery. Those so obsessed with its past that they are willing to sabotage other teams who dare stray from tradition."

"Sabotage? I know no such thing." Cassandra responded all innocent.

"Don't act like you don't know."

"I will not sit idly by and accept this slander! You and your heretical tankery ends here."

Cassandra went back into her turret and the 17-pounder of the Firefly aimed right at the T-44's engine. Though then they all heard the intense whir of an engine. It was getting closer and louder. Curious, Cassandra cocked her head to her right and saw fifty-one tons of Soviet steel barreling down the hill right toward her. Reaching the blistering speed of thirty miles per hour, the IS-3 unleashed a massive slam against the side of the Firefly. The huge force of the impact made the Sherman fall onto its side. The IS-3 then reversed and fired a shot right into its weak underside. A shower of sparks, fire, and smoke devastated the Firefly, shaking the crew within like they were in a hurricane. Valarie watched it all go down, amazed. The smoke was still too thick to see the Firefly's turret, but what came over the radio confirmed what she thought.

"Mojave Rose has won the match! They advance to the semi-finals!"

_Later_

At the spectator's area, the teams have returned and were in their private areas. Mojave Rose was out of their vehicles and celebrating with each other with food and drink. For a few of them, though, they had more serious faces. Ray, Valarie, Natalie, and Heather were discussing what to do with Old Dominion.

"Well, you all now know what's up with the sabotage. So now, that with the harassment against Ray, it's clear that Old Dominion was severe problems with them." Valarie said.

"So, what do we do with them? Just ignore it and put it behind us?" Natalie asked.

"No. From what Ray has told me about his encounter with their Panzer III, there is at least one crew on their team that aren't, well, shitty. So, maybe, not all of them are."

"And we're gonna walk to their area and find out, huh?" Ray said.

Valarie nodded.

"Great." he said with a sigh

The four left their area and walked across the spectator's area, passing the large crowd of people now making their leave. After some minutes of walking in silence, they arrived. Before entering, Valaire spoke with Heather.

"Please, don't punch the first person you see."

"...Okay."

Walking in Old Dominion's tent, everyone inside as chatting. When they saw the four, they stopped. There was an uneasiness in the air. Valarie stepped forward and spoke.

"Who's your captain?"

A girl stood from one of the benches and walked up to her.

"Hello! I'm Evelyn. That was some match huh?" she said cheerfully.

Valarie was confused by her demeanor, a stark contrast to the person she had talked to earlier.

"Um. Yeah. One to remember. But, unfortunately, for the wrong reasons. People on your team have attempted to sabotage our vehicles before the match."

Evelyn was taken aback over what was just said.

"That's a big accusation you have there! You better have some ironclad proof!"

In her hand, Valarie had brought her stereo. She pressed a button and the recording played. Evelyn was flabbergasted.

"I...I...God. You have to believe me, I had no idea! I would never condone such a thing!"

Another girl stood from the bench and ran up to them.

"Evelyn, don't tell me you believe that! That recording is an obvious fabrication!" Cassandra said to her.

"It sounds just like Amanda and Whitney though."

"Does it though? It sounds like two utterly different people to me!"

Ray looked at Cassandra and immediately recognized who she was.

"Oh, and another thing. Some people on your team harassed me and my friends at the convention. She is the ringleader" he said, pointing at Cassandra.

"Liars! All of you!"

"Cassandra? Did you really?" Evelyn asked.

"Of course not! Mojave Rose just wants us to lose harder than we already have!"

"It's true. She did." said a voice.

They all turned, and there was Ellie.

"What the hell are you talking about, Ellie?" Cassandra asked sternly.

"It was you. You did lead the harassment against them. I was there in that little secret meeting. This whole thing is your fault. You made this whole situation worse. You made people hate each other for no good reason. You lied to us just so that we can side with you. I can't. Wanna know something? It was me who made the IS-3 stop and see the IED you made. I flashed them a message. It was the right thing to do."

A silence. Cassandra was astounded over what Ellie was doing. She walked toward her and grabbed her by the collar of her uniform.

"You...traitorous bitch! Fucking trailer park trash! You cost us the match! If they had hit my trap, the IS-3 would've been eliminated and not come and save their flag tank!

Ellie slapped her, drawing gasps from everyone.

"We lost the match the moment you sabotaged their tanks. That's an instant disqualification."

"Ellie-"

She slapped her again.

"I can't stand you anymore. All your manipulation and hate. You strike fear into everyone just so they could be on your side. No more. I'd say I'm no longer your friend, but I understand now, we were never friends in the first place. I was just something you could control."

She turned around and marched away. Everyone stood still not knowing the next move to make.

"Ellie! You dare hit me? Come-"

"Cassandra, go to the bus."

"Evelyn, no-"

"Go. You did unspeakable damage to this team and to the school. Go to the bus. I'll deal with you then.

Glaring at them all, Cassandra left the tent. Evelyn then looked toward Valarie with an apologetic look.

"I'm so sorry. Nothing should have ever happened in the first place. This should've been a friendly match but it has been soured by Cassandra's actions. I'll make sure she is off the team, along with the other co-conspirators. Is there anything we, or me, can do for your forgiveness?"

Valarie put on a warm smile.

"Forgiveness can be a long road..."

She pressed a button on her stereo that wiped the recording.

"...So let's start it together."

Two captains shook hands and departed. Outside, the four of them began walking back to their own tent.

"That got dramatic, but ended nicely." Natalie commented.

"Yeah, I'm really glad it turned out this way." Heather added.

"MmmHmm. Nice and pleasant." Ray said.

"A good way to end the day." Valarie concluded.

A gust of wind caused her to shiver.

"Let's get the team back to the motel. I want to go home, where it's nice and sunny."


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dancing, denial, and a surprise at the garage.
> 
> Not bad for a Monday.

_Monday, April 29th 2013_

_Port of Long Beach_

_Catalina School of the Arts Carrier _

An idea that sprouted in the times of the Roman and perfected by the British in the 19th century, the school ship has become the largest vessels ever constructed to sail the seven seas. Cruise ships and aircraft carriers even from the most well-funded militaries cannot even hope to match such ships in size. For one art school, their carrier rests at the Port of Long Beach. Home to fifteen-thousand people and at six miles across, it is one of the smaller schools ships operating but it is, bar none, the most modern school ship ever to set sail. On the tops of every building on the carrier, are solar panels with tracking technology to maximize energy output. In several areas here and there clustered together are wind turbines, working best when the ship is moving. Though it's just not wind and solar that are powering this ship. Far below deck, at the most bottom layer, a pair of nuclear reactors provide the ship with propulsion. That and much more makes it so a person will enjoy life at sea without any of the drawbacks. And, as it is the ship for an art school, the name for the ship is appropriate. _Rembrandt_. The famous Dutch artist. At Catalina's campus, in the student council room, Madison was on one of the computers, busily typing away. She was alone for a while before the door opened and in entered Alice.

"Ah, figured you were here when you weren't are your dorm." she said, closing the door behind her.

"MmmHmm. I'm just securing our travel arrangements for the next match in the tournament."

"Already? It's only been two days since the last one."

"I don't want to do this at the last minute. You still jet lagged?"

"No. Montana isn't as far a place like Britain or Germany. I was cold nearly the entire time though."

"I told you to bring something nice and warm."

"Well, sorry for thinking spring meant pleasant weather."

"Luckily for you, the next place will give you all the heat you want. Las Vegas."

"All right!" Alice said excitedly.

"Las Vegas, New Mexico that is."

Alice looked at her with disbelief.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope."

Madison swung the monitor so that Alice could see the screen.

"Seriously? Another desert? That makes three now!"

"The ATA loves the desert huh?"

"And it's not even the real Vegas!"

"We're not old enough to gamble anyways."

Alice sat down at a chair next to her and pouted. Madison gave her a comforting pat on the back.

"Whatever. At least the matches are entertaining. And that Montana one was entertaining. Especially how it ended, man, pretty brutal what happened to that, uh, tank."

"It was a Sherman Firefly."

"Ah. I see. Well, I'm no tank expert unlike yourself." Alice teased.

"Oh, please. I only just learned what that tank was called yesterday."

"Mmm. And I'm betting that you know her tank too."

"Her tank?" Madison questioned.

"You know who I am referring to. Her."

"...Oh. Her."

Madison stopped her work at the computer.

"Yes. I know her tank. A T-44-100."

"Mojave Rose came real close to losing their match. Her tank was nearly eliminated, but that girl on the Firefly just had to talk to her for whatever reason. I bet there's a story there."

Alice then leaned in closer to Madison and lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Did you see her?" she asked.

"I did. After the match in the spectator's area"

"How did you feel seeing her?"

"I cannot even begin to describe my emotions, Alice."

"What stopped you from going over to her to meet her?

"Believe me, every bone and muscle in my body wanted to run to her. But she was with three other people and they were walking with a determination in their steps. Besides, I have perfectly choreographed how we will meet. I don't want to do things prematurely."

Madison swiveled in her chair and looked out the large window. The vibrant blue ocean can be seen, she admired it for a moment.

"June. I just have to wait till June."

_Barstow_

It has been a few days and Buchanan has settled in nicely in Redwood's home. Gone were all the boxes, all her belongings were now in their new and proper places. She was lying in the bed they shared, going back and forth looking at her compute on her lap and Redwood getting dressed for work. As it turns out, she was gazing at him far longer than whatever she was doing on her computer. When he put a shirt on, she became slightly disappointed and returned looking at the screen. She browsing some news articles when one sparked a smile on her.

"A-ha! There it is!" she exclaimed

"You sure sound excited. What did you find?" Redwood asked.

She cleared her throat.

"The President of the ATA mandates firefighting training, proper bailing-out procedures, and the inclusion of medical kits to all vehicles on tankery teams. These additions to the rules are effective immediately."

Her smile couldn't be any bigger.

"Amazing, Gabby. You've done that!"

"Well, I had some help along the way. And since never in the history in the ATA has safety rules been removed, it's all set in stone."

She closed her laptop and put it away. She then reclined on the bed and let out a satisfying sigh.

"Oh, and there is that massive carbon lining replacement. The team's vehicles will need to be checked out and have their linings replaced if they need it. Luckily, I know a good place.

"Let's make it happen this weekend. There won't be practice on Saturday as prom is happening the same day."

"Great. I'll make the calls."

Redwood finished up getting ready. He put on his tie and made it nice and snug.

"You, know, I've been thinking. This month has been pretty great. You keeping your role as the team's instructor and now being paid for it. New safety rules being enacted. And now, to top it off, the team advances to the semi-finals. Everyone has been working hard that I believe a reward is an order."

"A reward?" Buchanan curiously asked.

"Yes. What do you say to a weekend retreat to Big Bear? I know a great campground.

Her eyes lit up.

"Camping? That would be lovely! How soon can we make this happen?"

"We can go on the weekend after prom. I'll take care of the arrangements for this one.

He was now ready to leave, he went over to her and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"I'm off. See you later."

Redwood was halfway out of the bedroom when he then turned around.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Do you mind helping out at prom by being a chaperon?"

"Uh, sure. I got a dress somewhere here. I'll look decent."

"Decent? I disagree. You in a dress would be stunning."

After seeing her blush, he made his departure. Buchanan continued to lay in bed, smiling and feeling warm inside. She then heard little footsteps, then, something hopping. Soap joined her in bed and rested on her chest, purring. She laid a hand on her to pet her. In all the tranquility, she was thinking about what Redwood has said to her.

"Yeah, I would look stunning in a dress. Especially, a white one."

_Noon_

The ringing of the bell has ushered in the lunch period. Near simultaneously, dozens of classroom doors flung open and out came a flood of hungry students. Among them was Ray, walking briskly. Not to the outdoor cafeteria nor to the library where he would normally get lost in some book. But to the school's theater. He had a lesson to attend. Walking past a multitude of students heading in the opposite direction. Approaching the theater, he then became a little trepidatious. This dance lesson as been on his mind all day. Just before the entrance, he paused. Ray was never a fan of dancing, doing whatever he could to avoid it coming up with any excuse. The few times he did dance, it was forced. And he didn't enjoy one moment of it. Always drowning in embarrassment when he did. It all boils down to just not knowing what to do. Today would begin the process of solving that. After hesitating a few more moments, he walked into the theater. Inside, he saw rows of empty chairs with the stage at the far end of the room. It was very quiet, with only his footsteps and the humming of the air conditioning system overhead providing noise. At the stage, he climbed up on it and went behind the curtains. Sitting patiently on a table was Natalie. She looked at him with a small smile.

"Good. You're here. Ready to start?"

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Hey, since this is a lesson, can I still call you Natalie or do I be more professional and call you Miss, uh...Miss whatever your last name is."

She chuckled lightly.

"Natalie is fine. And my last name is Welti by the way."

"Welti...got it."

Ray put his backpack against the wall and the two got together at the center of the backstage.

"So, what will you be teaching me?"

"Something very simple. The box step. It's a form of ballroom dancing, like the waltz."

"Oooh, how fancy. You don't happen to have a top hat and cane lying around here to wear too?" he joked.

Rolling her eyes, she reached out and grabbed hold of his left hand with her right, palms touching. Her other hand was laid just before his shoulder.

"Place your hand over my shoulder blade."

He moved his hand and hovered with hesitation before finally doing so.

"There. We're in, uh, we're in a dance pose." she said, flustered.

The two have never been so close to together. They were looking at each other for several moments, eyes glittering. Blushing, Natalie quickly shook her head.

"Um. Let's get started then. Just try to follow my movements."

With her taking the lead, they began to dance. She took a step forward with her left foot, with Ray paying close attention and mimicking. Then she stepped to the right side with her right foot, with him following, then all brought their feet together.

"Hey, this isn't too bad. It's kinda fun." Ray remarked, smiling.

"You're doing good so far. Now, let's finish this step."

They resumed danced. The pair took a step backward and then a step to the left, bringing their feet back together.

"And that's the box step. Easy, huh?" Natalie said.

"Sure is."

"And now, we repeat. A bit faster this time."

They did the dance again at a quicker pace. They moved, as the name of the dance would suggest, in a box. With each completion of the dance, they did it again faster and faster. They were both smiling at each other with how smoothly things were going. That is until it wasn't. A misstep by Ray caused both of them to fall down. He fell on his back onto the floor as Natalie landed on top of him.

"Are you okay?" she asked immediately.

"Ow. I'm alright" he said, rubbing the back of his head. "I take it this is not part of the dance?"

"I don't think falling on top of each other is part of it, no."

Ray stood up first and extended a hand. She looked at him for a moment and tried hard not to smile. Letting him have his fun, she took his hand, where he pulled and brought her close to him.

"Shall we continue?" he said playfully

"Wait just a second." Natalie said, breaking away and walking to a nearby table. There was a radio. Pressing some buttons, classical music began playing.

"Now, we dance to some music."

She walked him and they reassumed the pose.

"Ready? Okay. Take my lead. One, two, three..."

For the remainder of the lunch period, they had their dance lesson. While Ray was doing better than she expected, he did do some clumsy moves every now and again, such as bumping foreheads, but that made the whole thing that more fun. With it being just the two of them, backstage of the theater, with classical music playing, it was peaceful. When the lunch bell rang, they stopped.

"Oh. Already?" Natalie remarked with disappointment.

"Guess so." Ray said, grabbing his backpack. "We're doing it again tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yep. We're doing it every lunch from now till prom."

"Cool. See you later, Nat."

He left and only when Natalie was certain he was gone did she finally allow herself to blush. Being called 'Nat' made her heart flutter. She placed her hands over her chest and let out a yearning sigh. She wanted the lesson to last a little longer. Thankfully, she'll see him later today, and tomorrow, and the day after, and so on. They wouldn't be separated for too long and they'll be holding hands and dancing soon enough. To be close to him and feel the warmth of his body and to hear the lively beating of his heart and...! She stopped letting her imagination run wild and composed herself. This was just helping a friend out by teaching them to dance and nothing more. Nothing more. She told herself repeatedly, but each time she did, the less she became convinced. Little by little, her true feelings were beginning to breach the surface.

_Later_

At home, Buchanan readied to head to the school for the regular tankery meeting. As she was tying her shoes, her phone rang. Looking at who it was calling, it was Redwood. She answered.

"Hey Mart-"

"Gabby, you gotta head to the garage as soon as you can. We got an unexpected delivery." Redwood said excitedly.

"Huh? What was delivered? We didn't order anything."

"You'll have to see to believe. Get over here!"

Ending the call, she hurriedly finished getting ready, raced out of the house, into her car, and drove to the school. On the way, she thought about what could possibly be at the garage. With Redwood being so vague about it, what the surprise delivery was could really be anything on earth. It wasn't long before she arrived at the school. She quickly parked and walked quickly to the garage. Just outside the large doors, stood Redwood. Upon seeing her, he gave a huge smile.

"Okay, what did we get?" she questioned, partly out of breath.

"They're inside. Oh man, you're gonna love it."

Reaching in his pockets, Redwood got out a switch and pressed a button. Machinery rumbled and the large garage doors began to open. Sunlight seeped into the gap and illuminated the shadows within. Buchanan watched with eager anticipation, which was growing by the second. Once they opened enough, she saw what Redwood was referring to and let out a huge surprised gasp.

"No...Way!"

Running inside, she approached what was unexpectedly delivered. Inside the garage were two new vehicles. They weren't tanks though they were certainly military vehicles of the more modern age. On her left was a Desert Patrol Vehicle, painted all in black. A high-speed, lightweight, sandrail. Used extensively during Operation Desert Storm, this little car can race across the desert at speeds of eighty miles per hour. It holds a crew of three. Two in the front, the driver and a passenger, with the third passenger sitting behind and above them. The DPV was used for general military use for some time until it was soon replaced by the vehicle on Buchanan's right. A High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle. Better known as the Humvee, wearing the iconic desert camouflage. From transporting cargo to being in firefights, the Humvee has been heavily used by militaries all over the world however they see fit. Both of the vehicles, of course, been completely disarmed of their armaments but the mounts for weapons still remained. Walking behind her and laying a hand on her shoulder, Redwood presented her a letter.

"It looks like we have some fans up at Fort Irwin. Including its commander."

"You're kidding!"

"Oh, but I am not. Listen to this."

He unfolded the letter and read aloud its contents

"Dear Mojave Rose High School,

Over the past few months, your performance of the on-going tankery tournament has garnered immense interest within this base. Days that you have your matches become special events, drawing people from all over the base to watch you on a projected screen. As we've become such fans, then it is only appropriate to support our local sports team. And what better way to support a sports team than to donate some supplies? Sent to you is a number of things; chiefly the DPV and Humvee. We hope that these two vehicles will serve you well for whatever purpose you desire. In addition, we are also sending you more ammunition and fuel for your tanks. They should reach you in the coming days. Good luck in the tournament and keep putting on good shows!

With Warm Regards,

Thomas J. Gilligan

Brigadier General"

Once he finished reading the letter, he turned to look at Buchanan, who was beyond happy.

"Oh my God! Two vehicles along with ammo and fuel coming? That is beyond generous!" she exclaimed, jumping in joy.

"I know! So, what do we do with them?" Redwood asked.

Buchanan eyed the vehicles again.

"I don't know, but I'll find a reason, and if I can't, I'll make one up! Wow, this month just got better!"

The two hugged.

"The team is going to love this." Redwood whispered into her ear.

They then heard the sound of many footsteps.

"Oh yeah, they sure will."

They stopped hugging and soon the team arrived at the garage. Immediately, they saw the additions and ran to them, surrounding them. The entire team was staring at them with wonder. People were taking turns getting in them and some couldn't resist turning them on, the sound of engines filling the room. One member of the team in the driver's seat of the DPV and toyed with the throttle. After letting them have a bit of fun, Buchanan then grabbed their attention.

"Alright guys, you've played with them enough. To answer the question you all have, this is a donation from Fort Irwin. They've become quite the fans. Now, it's time for maintenance. Going to Montanan, being in a match, and then coming back to California, as you might expect, will make them need attention. Get to it."

With orders received, all the people in the team went to their respective vehicles and began work on them. At the IS-3, Ray and his crew looked at their machine and saw the ugly battering that it received.

"Damn. This thing went through a storm of fire and still made it through. What a champ." Cesar commented.

"It's dirty and scratched to hell." added Ryan.

"And some dents." Jeremy noted.

Ray walked forward and laid both his hands on the front of its hull.

"The explosive residue can be cleaned and the dents repaired. But the scratches, I have to admit, is a good look on the thing. It gives it character, don't you think?"

The other three thought about it and then gave enthusiastic nods.

"Yeah, leave the scratches. Like their scars." Ryan said.

"And chicks dig scars." Ray said.

They got to work cleaning their vehicle up but all the while taking great care to leave the scratches alone. Not too far from where they were, the Jagdpanzer IV crew were at their vehicle. But they weren't maintaining it. All of their attention was focused on Natalie, who had her arms crossed.

"You're teaching him to dance? Really?" Jane asked, bewildered.

"Why is this so shocking? Is it too unbelievable to help a friend out?" Natalie responded.

"Oh, sure, sure. A 'friend'." Jane said with a touch of playful sarcasm.

"What? Don't you all like Ray?"

Her three crew members exchanged cheeky faces and then look back at Natalie.

"What's with the faces?" she demanded.

"Oh, we like Ray. We're being honest here when we say he's a good guy and as the team's co-captain, he does the job well. It's just that, we think someone on this crew likes him a bit more than we do." said Miranda, the Jagdpanzer IV loader.

"That cannot be any further from the truth!" retorted Natalie, turning away from them. "It's just dance lessons and nothing more."

"Ah, I hear denial in your voice." Barbara said.

Natalie turned to glare directly into her eyes.

"Then get your ears checked. What I say is what I mean. There is nothing going on, and nothing will damn it!

"Whatever you say. Hey, when the wedding comes, can we be your bridesmaids?" Jane teased.

Natalie buried her face in her hands and let out a heavy sigh of exasperation. She climbed on top of the tank destroyer, opened a hatch, and climbed inside. Alone in the interior, she could hear the rest of her crew now working on the outside. They knew her well enough when to stop pushing her. In her commander's position, she sat, leaning against the inner walls. She partially regretted telling them what she was doing for Ray because now she will face an onslaught of neverending teasing from her own crew. Still, she only partially regretted it. With her out of sight from everyone, she allowed herself to smirk. What Barbara said to her rang in her head. Denial. As she was thinking about that word, a thought entered her mind. Maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to it.

Elsewhere in the garage, the T-44 crew was tending to their machine. They had relatively fewer things to do compared to other vehicles but were still busy nonetheless. Not too busy, though, to have a conversation. What they were talking about had nothing to do with tanks or tankery at all. It was about what was happening this Saturday. Prom. The four girls were all looking forward to the event.

"Gee, I wonder, I do wonder, who I will take to prom." Emma said whimsically.

Valarie laughed.

"I'm going to take a guess. Would it be, I don't know, the person right in front of you."

Emma smiled and touched her cheek.

"Our first prom as a couple."

Valarie blushed. She then grabbed Emma's hand and led her behind the tank where no one else would see them. They shared a long kiss.

"I just can't wait." Valarie said, playing with Emma's hair.

"Same. It's going to be magical."

At the front of the T-44, Ashley and Heather we knelling by one the tracks. Ashley gave Heather a funny look.

"What?" Heather asked.

"They're making out again."

"Oh. I see. Well, uh, we'll leave them too it then." she said, stuttering a bit.

"You getting all hot and bothered, Heather?" Ashley joked.

"What? No? Not at all? I'm just surprised that they're being so...affectionate right here where anyone could see them."

"Well, no one is seeing them behind the tank. They're being lowkey about their relationship. And can you really blame them for what they are doing? Nine years of friendship, possibly loving in a romantic sort of way for the whole time, and only now are they dating? What they're doing doesn't surprise me one bit."

"I just hope that I don't run into them...well...you know." Heather said with cheeks red.

"I believe I do." Ashley responded with a smirk. "Anyway, to change the subject. Prom. You going?"

"I am!" Heather responded with glee.

"And I bet you got one hell of an outfit for it."

"Well, it's a bit more typical. Take a look.

Heather got out her phone and showed her some photos of her attire for prom. It was a two-piece dress, dyed a wonderful royal blue. The bottom portion had roses embroidered on them. Ashley looked at them with eyes filled with amazement.

"That's a beautiful dress! Did you make that yourself?"

"Eh, only part of it. I got it from a store and modified it. The blue wasn't up to my liking so I dyed it to be much more vibrant. I then embroidered on some roses on the bottom half. It was a fun little project and I can't wait to show it off."

"Art. That is art."

"Thank you. So, what's your attire?"

"I, uh, don't have anything to wear. I'm still looking."

"Ah, I see. You don't want to wear a dress because you don't want to be like 'other girls'." Heather said, using her hands to make air quotes.

"Just because I wear my hair short doesn't mean I don't like feminine things! I just want to have my own thing, that's all."

Heather tapped her fingers against her chin. Then smiled.

"In that case, I may have just the thing for you."

She was on her phone for a few moments then showed Ashley another picture. She became entranced and grabbed the phone from her to have a better look.

"That. Is. Perfect!" she exclaimed. "Did you just have that lying around?"

Heather placed her hands behind her back and swayed a little in place.

"It's a recent creation. And, to tell you the truth, I was thinking of you when I was working on it."

What she has created was a hybrid prom outfit. The top portion was a black velvet tuxedo, with an eye-catching crimson bow tie. The bottom portion was a simpler yet just as elegant skirt, just long enough to cover the knees. Made of the same materials as the tuxedo. Ashley instantly fell in love with the outfit.

"God, it's so perfect. Is it ready?"

"Almost. One moment."

Heather stood back up and went to her backpack. Returning, Ashley saw in her hands was sewing tap, with her stretching it out.

"I just need your measurements to get your outfit fitting nice and snug. Raise your arms up, please."

Ashley did so and felt the measuring tape being wrapped around her waist. She giggled softly.

"What's so funny?" Heather inquired as she was looking at the tape.

"I'm, ah, ticklish around my waist."

"Is that so? I'll keep that in mind then. Okay, I got your waist measurement. Now for your arms. Can you-"

"Flex my arms? Gladly." Ashley said, doing so.

Giving her a small smile, Heather wrapped the tape around her arms.

"MmmHmm. Arm and waist measurements are exactly what I thought they were."

"Wait. If you already knew, why did you bother with the tape?"

"I have a good eye for this sort of thing but I just wanted to confirm it."

"Oh, okay. And I'm sure it wasn't some ploy to touch my muscles again."

Heather rolled up her sewing tape and stowed them in her pocket. On her face was telling grin.

"You're awfully perceptive."

_Tuesday_

By now, waking up early in the morning has become Valarie's routine. It would have been unheard of just months prior. This morning, she showered and got dressed for the day. As she had some free time on her hands, she went to the living room and sat on the couch. The television was turned on and tuned to local news. Though it was only for background noise as her phone had her full attention. It's been too long since she read anything about tankery-related considering how busy she was with the team. It was mornings like these that are perfect for catching up. She went to the usual tankery forums and read through posts. One forum post caught her eye in particular. It's title especially.

_"National Tournament Betting Odds - PLAY AT YOUR OWN RISK!"_

Curious, she accessed the article and found a trove of fascinating information. Over the course of the tournament, forum users have been betting on teams on how well they do in the competition. The riskiest bet anyone could make here was what school would win it all. A list has been composed of all the remaining schools in play with odds attached to them. Not being able to resist, Valarie read through it.

_"Old Dominion High School, VA - - - OUT!"_

_"St. Abigail Girl's Catholic Academy, TX - - - OUT!"_

_"Mustang Middle College High School, NY - - - 1 in 6"_

_"Molly Pitcher Girls' Private Academy, MA - - - 1 in 4 ( improving! )"_

_"Mojave Rose High School, CA - - - 1 in 7 ( improving! )"_

There were more schools on that list but Valarie stopped reading. She learned what she wanted to know. It was a surreal feeling to read people talking about her team, and being positive at that. Yes, most people were still skeptical of them winning but it was better than when she read these forums earlier where nearly all of them didn't give them much thought. There was excitement in these forum posts, an energy that will grow and reach its high peak when the finals take place in June. The name Molly Pitcher was familiar to Valarie. It was the school where the captain she met at the convention was from. Penelope Hathaway. Comparing the odds of Molly Pitcher to the other schools on that list, Valarie found that they were the clear favorite with some people who have bet on them bragging how they bet on a 'sure thing'. A sure thing, Valarie thought in her mind. She let out a small laugh. There was no such thing as a 'sure thing' in any sport, especially in tankery. All Valarie needed for proof was the Japanese competition she watched last year. Teams like Pravda and Korimorimine assumed too much. They went into their matches fully believing that they could utterly defeat Ooarai. But reality dictated otherwise. When the dust settled, it was the them who were ravaged and tasted the bitterness of a loss. Putting her phone away in her pocket, Valarie turned off the television and strapped on her backpack. It was now time for school, and time to influence the odds.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a good night of dancing.

_May 1st, 2013_

_Molly Pitcher Girls' Academy_

_Boston_

In between classes, Caroline opted to rest for a bit outside. Finding a lawn chair, she went and sat. She was under a cherry blossom tree, branches swaying in rhythm with each gust of wind blowing through them. The grass the chair rested on was just fresh cut the hour prior. The odor in the air was strong and pleasant. That 'earthly' aroma that she adored. After soaking in the environment for several long moments, she reached into her bag and got out a book. Its dust jacket has been removed, leaving just a bare cover. Just on the spine was where the title of the book remained but that was carefully covered with tape that matched the color of the book's cover. All this effort to hide her guilty pleasure. Children detective stories. Such books were for an audience of young children between eight and ten years old. Most would grow out of reading such stories but Caroline, at seventeen, still eagerly devours them. She hides reading them as to avoid being made fun of, for reading 'baby' books. Penelope knows that she does this, and being the good friend that she is, merely gives her lighthearted teasing now and then. All nestled up in that lawn chair, she happily read away. After some time, from the corner of her eye, saw someone approaching her. Just from their blurry appearance, she knew full well who was coming. Setting her book down, she looked up.

"Ah, Caroline. Still on the story about the missing artifact?" Penelope greeted, smiling.

"I am. It's just getting good." Caroline responded, defensive.

"I'm glad to hear. You'll get that gold star in no time." Penelope joked

"Oh, please." Caroline said with a hint of exasperation. "So, what's up?"

"June first." Penelope said cryptically.

Caroline looked at her oddly.

"June...first? What is happening then?"

"A very special delivery."

Caroline's eyes slowly widened.

"The tank!" she said with a gasp. She fully put away her book and stood up from the chair. "That must be what you are referring to!"

"Right indeed. Just one month from now, the team will make quite the acquisition. As it is so important, I hope you understand that secrecy with this delivery is paramount."

"Um, why?" Caroline asked puzzled. "The ATA has already approved this tank before it was built. Any school who complains about it can't do a thing about it."

"It's not that." Penelope responded, bringing her hands together. "There are two reasons why I want us to be secret about this. One, I want to surprise the team with the vehicle when it arrives. I can only imagine the shock and glee when they see the thing before them. And two, and this is the most important bit, is this. I don't want other schools to know. Not because of their complaints, I don't care about that, but to prevent them from coming up with tactics against it. Our special tank coming our way is not invincible. It has flaws that can be exploited. If we are not careful, other schools across the country will find out. And considering the tank we are getting, that news will spread _fast_."

"So, what do you propose we do? Put a tarp over the thing?"

"No. The crew we selected for it will practice with it when it arrives."

"But, how do we take that monster out for a spin if we have to keep it a secret?"

"Simple. We practice at night."

Caroline looked on, waiting for her to tell that she was joking. But nothing.

"Oh, you're serious." she remarked with surprise.

"I am. The secrecy of this tank is of the utmost importance. You and I are currently the only two people aware of this tank, and soon, so will the team. But that's it. Not a soul more. It is up to us to ensure the team keeps their lips sealed."

"If you want it, you will have it." Caroline affirmed.

"I knew I could count on you." Penelope said with a warm voice.

She turned around to look and gaze at the cloudless sky.

"When it all goes well, whatever team we go against in June will have the greatest shock in their lives. And that, Caroline, is what we will exploit to win."

_Barstow_

It was now noon and Mojave Rose has just begun its lunch period. The moment the bell rang, Ray left his classroom and headed straight toward the theater to continue his dance lessons. He was no longer nervous about them and now looked forward to them. It was a nice change of pace of just reading at the library alone at a table. Natalie was a superb teacher, patient, and encouraging. All the mistakes he has made have been met with positivity. She would acknowledge the mistake with grace and teach him how to improve. It was always a pleasant experience when they danced. Entering the theater and walking backstage, there she was. Waiting.

"I like how you come so quickly once lunch starts. I appreciate you taking this seriously." Natalie said.

He gave her a grin.

"Well, I'd hate to be disrespectful over what you're doing for me. After all, you didn't have to do this in the first place."

"Actually, I felt like I had to. I help the people I care about."

"Oh, you care about me?" Ray said with a playful tone, his smile growing greater. "That is quite the change in demeanor compared to the first time we met."

Natalie's face was one of minor embarrassment.

"Oh geez, I'd rather not remember that. It makes me wince every time I do."

Natalie rose from the table she was sitting on and turned on a stereo, playing the familiar classical music. Then they assumed the pose and started dancing, talking as they did.

"Then for your sake, I'll not bring it up. Not too much, anyway." he said laughing slightly.

She looked away from him to blush.

"How kind of you. You are a true gentleman, no doubt." she replied with a hint of sarcasm.

Their eyes met for a moment and during that brief period of time, they felt a strong emotion deep within their souls. It burned with a passion hotter than the center of the sun, yet before this strong emotion could have a chance to breach the surface, they looked away from each other. Still, subconsciously, their hands entered in a tighter embrace. They danced for several minutes focusing on their movements. Natalie then snuck a glance at him and made an observation.

"Your hair has been getting longer and longer since I've known you, that it's now covering your ears. You growing it out?" she asked.

Ray flicked his head to the side, his hair moving like an ocean wave.

"I am. I always wanted to see how I would look with long hair."

"Oooh, that's nice. Going for hair as long as mine?" she said with a chuckle.

"Ha. No. Not as long as your hair, but long enough to, ah, um..."

He hesitated. Natalie looked waiting, waiting.

"Long enough for...?" she pressed.

"Well, between you and me," he said in a hushed tone. "I always liked the ponytail style. Enough that, um, I want my own hair done like that."

She looked at him with great amusement.

"Really? You want your hair done in a ponytail?"

"Yeah...yeah! I do!" Ray responded, getting all defensive. "Are you going to make fun of me?"

"No. Not at all," She bit her lip. "In fact, I think you'd like great with it."

They were both smiling at each other.

"Thanks. And, uh, since you probably done your hair in a ponytail more times than you can count, would you mind teaching me how to do them once my hair is long enough?"

"Oh, for sure." she replied, accepting with great enthusiasm.

They were both blushing slightly, with Natalie now no longer hiding it this time. As they danced, they played with each other's fingers, their heads drawing closer together inch by inch. They could feel the breath of the other being blown o their faces. Being so close together, Natalie could hear and feel his heartbeat quickening. She felt her own heart do the same. At their hands, they both could feel their palms moisten slightly with sweat. This feeling of bliss was something that neither wanted to end. As the lunch period drawn to a close, Natalie decided to ask him an important question.

"So, uh, who's your date for prom?" she asked, bracing to hear an answer that she didn't want to hear.

"I don't have a date right now." he answered.

Natalie was surprised and internally overjoyed.

"What? No date? Oh, that simply won't do. All thee lessons will be a waste if you don't have a date to dance with."

"I know, but, getting a date is hard. My anxiety gets ratcheted up to eleven just by thinking of asking someone to prom.

She placed her hands at her hips and put on a thinking face.

"Hmm...Ah!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "I'll be your prom date."

"Huh?!" Ray reacted, bewildered. "Are you serious?"

"I've told you before that I'm not a comedian. It makes perfect sense really. We've already danced so we know each other's rhythm."

"Uh. Alright! We're gonna have a good time."

"Yes, but let's get one thing straight. This is just a prom date, not a _date_ date, okay? A prom date and nothing more."

"A prom date and nothing more." Ray echoed. "I understand."

"Good. Nevertheless!" she exclaimed, startling him. "I still expect a corsage from you."

"Yes...a corsage. That's the flower that goes on your wrist, right?"

"Yes. And, of course, I'll fetch you a nice boutonniere."

"Cool. That goes...where?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it. I'll put it on you right before prom."

The end of the lunch bell sounded. Upon hearing it, the two gathered their things.

"Just two more days to prom. I'm very proud of your progress so far. Come the big night, you'll be a fine dancer." she complimented.

"Thank you, thank you." Ray said, grinning. "And though I understand that our prom date is just a prom date, I do hope that prom isn't the last time we dance."

_Later _

At the garage, the team did their regular duties. By now, any vehicles that had sustained any damage during the Montana match were fully repaired and ready for action. It was a period of time for the team where work was at its lowest. As prom was this Saturday, practice won't be taking place on that day, so there was no need to prep vehicles for something that won't happen. Also, the Montana match was still a recent event. The next match wouldn't be until the last Saturday of May. There was no pressing need to get ready. The team could let loose and do things at their leisure. As the team went about their business, one thing was dominating the conversation. Prom. People all over the garage were eagerly sharing their plans with each other. Sharing what they will wear and who asked them out for prom. At the IS-3, three of its crew members surrounded another. They were all greatly surprised over what was just shared with them.

"She...asked you out? For real?" Ryan questioned in a state of disbelief.

Ray shrugged. "Not really ask me out, and more so, declare that I was her prom date now."

The rest of his crew exchanged amazed and amused glances.

"You're living the dream, Ray." Cesar said.

"How so?"

"That the script has been flipped. A girl asking a guy out to prom. Well, in your case, declared. Still, very cool."

"Yeah, that is very nice."

"So. Do you think it, ah, means anything more?" Jeremy questioned.

Ray pondered for a moment.

"Honestly, I have a feeling but I'm hesitant, you know. What if I misread her signals and make things real awkward between us. That, I definitely don't want to happen. I'm going to play it safe."

"Sure, that could happen but there the other possibility. That it does mean something."

"She told me repeatedly that it's just a prom date and nothing more.

"And that could be true! But, we all know the classic romance cliche, where the guy or girl denies they have romantic feelings for another person, but over time, realize they do and kiss or something."

"That's a cliche though, as you said."

"Ray, reality is the root of all cliches. Now, let's assume that it does mean something. There's nothing wrong with playing it safe, but be too cautious, and it will be you sending the wrong signals. A signal to her that you're not interested. Making things awkward is bad, yeah, but wanna know what stings? Realizing after the fact that were was a connection and not doing anything about it."

Ray rubbed his face with both hands.

"Ugh. Thanks for putting that thought in my head. I gotta figure this out and hammer out a plan.

Elsewhere in the garage, the T-44 crew 'worked'. Since the meeting has started, they talked and talked. Work for them was near nonexistent. as they had so little to do in regards to their machine. Emma and Valarie were behind the tank in a spot where no one else could see them. They were facing each other, their hands in a warm embrace, looking affectionately into the other's eyes.

"I see them every day and still your green eyes are as beautiful as ever. They shine as brilliantly as the finest, polished emerald." Emma complimented in a gentle voice.

Valarie recoiled her head back as she blushed greatly.

"When I get lost in your light blue eyes, I imagine us swimming in the crystal blue waters off some tropical island. So tranquil and serene."

Emma drew her closer.

"And also romantic."

They entered into a kiss. It felt as electrifying as they kissed the first time.

"Ahhh, I'm addicted to kissing you." Valarie said, her voice light and relaxed.

"Likewise." Emma said with a blushing grin. "So, about prom. I got my dress all picked out."

"Great! Can I see a picture."

"Nope!" Emma said with a wave of her finger. "You'll just have to be patient."

"You're such a tease." Valarie remarked with a grin. She leaned in and gave her another kiss. "Just another reason why I love you."

The two continued to flirt with each other. At the front of the tank, Heather and Ashley were taking a look at the barrel. With a finger on her chin, Heather was contemplating.

"Hmm. Should we get the cleaning rod to clean the barrel?"

"Nah." Ashley said as she stretched. "We'll do it tomorrow." She stretched again. "Actually, let's do it next week. We're in no rush here."

Heather looked at her and back at the barrel.

"Well...okay. As long as we for sure do it Monday."

"We will, we will. Now, on to something more relevant."

"Prom?"

"Yep. I just have to ask about my dress."

"It's ready. I'll give it to you tomorrow."

"Awesome!"

"You're going to look absolutely stunning in your dress. That, I can guarantee."

"I got the designer to thank for that. She truly is an artisan."

Heather sported a proud smile.

"Thank you. All you guys compliment my work and it makes me so amazing. It is so validating because I used to think none of the stuff I made any good. I can't even tell you the number of projects I've scrapped because I thought they were bad. It took forever to actually create something that I thought was decent enough to show off."

"Heather, the things you create are fantastic. The costumes. The clothes. Art. All of it. The attention to detail you have is mindblowing.

Heather's cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"Yeah, I do have a knack for fashion."

"And not just fashion." Ashley added. She turned to the T-44. "When the team started and everyone just got their tanks, it was only Valarie who really had an idea what to do with the T-44. So, what did you do? You went and found every manual about the tank. Most of which translated poorly from Russian. You seared that information in your mind and became the best mechanic of this crew, hell, the best mechanic in the entire team."

"Wow, really? Do you honestly think that?"

"With all my heart. It was you who first found the sabotage by smelling gasoline. Every mechanical fault the T-44 has was almost always found and fixed by you. When other people on the team have engine troubles, you go over and help them out and teach them how to fix it when it happens again. You're amazing. You always were."

"I'm, ah, I'm at a loss for words." Heather said with her voice starting to tighten. "I never realized just how much I contribute. I always saw myself as just a driver."

"You're not only a damn good driver but a great friend. You...and Emma and Valarie mean so much to me. I really cannot imagine better people to call my best friends."

"Geez...Ashley, you're going to make her cry."

Stepping closer, Ashley laid a finger on Heather's cheek and wiped something away.

"Looks like I already did."

The two hugged. Once they embraced, they became emotion and their eyes were wet with tears.

"So, uh, what's your plan for prom?" Ashley asked as she wiped away her tears.

"Oh, you know. Hang out. Drink some punch and maybe dance a little." Heather responded amid sniffles.

"Cool. Same as mine. Um, what about Sunday? Got any plans then?"

"The bunker is going to be open that day. We're both going to be there."

Ashley's eyes widened and jumped in place.

"Oh! How could I forget that? Man! The weekend can't come soon enough!"

_Saturday_

At homes dotted across town, teenagers excitedly got ready for the night ahead of them. For the Mojave Rose team, Saturday was special for two reasons. One was that prom had arrived, an event that they all had been looking forward to all semester. The second was something that only they could relish in. With practice not being held today, they didn't need to wake early for it. They could finally enjoy sleeping in. Some did so though but for the rest, as prom was an exciting affair, did wake early in the morning so that they could do their pre-prom activities. Throughout the day, people came together in groups and went out and about in town. They went to restaurants, parks, cinemas, and other places where fun things can be done. Once the sun reached its apex and began its journey to sink beneath the horizon, the students of Mojave Rose began their final preparations. The boys and girls got dressed in their formal attire; sharp tuxedos and elegant dresses. Once the evening has arrived, the school, vacant for most of the day, was then populated with most of the student body. The school's gym was were prom would be held, decorated heavily for the event. Among all the people arriving on campus was Ray. He was waiting at the entrance of the gym. Within he could hear muffled music being played and saw people, most with dates, walking in. He checked frequently at the approaching crowd, looking for one person in particular. Soon, he caught sight of her. Walking toward him in a glossy yellow satin dress that beautifully reflected the sunlight of the setting sun.

"Woah, you look amazing!" Ray complimented.

A small smile appeared on her face.

"Thank you very much. The same can be said for you. Very, uh, handsome." Natalie remarked, blushing.

In each of their hands were the floral decorations traditionally exchanged by prom dates.

"I'm guessing that's for me?" Ray said pointing at her hand.

"Yes, it is. Your boutonniere. It's a succulent. Isn't it cute?" she said, presenting it proudly.

Ray leaned closer to take a good look at it.

"It is very cute. I love it!" he exclaimed

Walking closer, Natalie safely tucked his boutonniere in one of his chest pockets. After that, she examined his outfit more closely. He was wearing a blue three-piece tuxedo with matching pants. Around his neck was a black bow-tie.

"Dashing."

"And now, for you."

Natalie extended and arm and Ray gently tied on her corsage. A yellow rose with white ribbons. Once done, she looked at it and smiled.

"Beautiful."

"I knew you'd love it. I got lucky with the flower. It matches your dress."

"And it does so wonderfully. Now, shall we?"

They locked arms and entered the gym. Inside, they saw all the festivities. Balloons were tied to every conceivable place. As the prom was military-themed, they were black and green, colors that reminded people of camouflage. Ray and Natalie took a look around and decided to go for the punch to start the night. Back outside, more of the team was arriving. A group of four were walking to the gym, stopping just before the entrance. Valarie, Emma, Ashley, and Heather were all dressed in their best attire. They all looked at each other with glee.

"You all look so damn good!" Ashley exclaimed.

"Thank you! And your dress...or tux? Whatever it is, it's a combo and I love it! It suits you so well!" Valarie commented.

"I got one hell of a designer."

"No doubt. Anyway, you two go inside. Emma and I have something to do."

Nodding, Ashley beckoned Heather to follow and the two went inside the gym. Relatively alone, Valarie faced Emma.

"Since we are a couple, it is only appropriate that we do this."

She presented her with a corsage.

"Woah! Valarie! I, uh, didn't know we were doing this!" Emma said. "I didn't get you one!"

"It's okay. I only had the idea last minute. Now, may I?"

Emma reached out her arm where Valarie tied on the corsage on her wrist. It was a little collection of white orchids. It matched well enough with her attire. A sleeveless, light blue dress that reached all the way to the ground. Her legs were completely obscured. Valarie adored it.

"So. Beautiful." she uttered.

"So are you. I especially like that little decoration on your ear." Emma said, pointing.

Tucked in her ear was the preserved rose that Emma had gifted her for her birthday. The bright red rose contrasted wonderfully with her dress. A black V-neck dress with a beaded waist. All that and her choker nice and snug around her neck made for an impressive outfit.

"To think someone as pretty as you is my girlfriend." Emma said.

They both blushed.

"Let's head on in. Ashley and Heather are waiting for us."

The two finally went inside and joined their friends at a table. The four chatted as they watched all the people out and about in the gym. The agenda for prom was simple. Dinner, then the dance. A table against one of the far walls was filled with the night's meal. Students formed a line and got their plates, and returned to their own tables where they ate with friends and dates. As they ate, Ashley made an observation that she just had to share.

"So, I noticed pretty much the entire team is here." she said.

"Sure does look like it." Valarie replied.

"But what I find the most interesting is one pair in particular. I hesitate to call them a couple, but, I did see Ray and Natalie together. They waited together in line for punch, for the dinner, and now, I can see them eating together at a table talking and laughing."

They all looked at her with surprise.

"You don't think..." Emma began but trailed off.

"No way...can it?" Valarie reacted in disbelief.

"It could mean anything." Heather commented.

"Maybe. Maybe. But we all remember how she reacted to Ray and his friends when the team got started."

"Man, that freaked me out. I thought this team would be a cesspit of drama and tension. Thankfully, that didn't happen." Valarie said.

"Thankfully. I'll keep a close eye on them and see what they do."

"Okay, go ahead and stalk them." Valarie said, cutting a piece of chicken and eating it.

They finished their meal and just drank some punch as they relished in the atmosphere. Soon, when the sun has now set, the lights within the gym dimmed. The music was changed into something more relaxing. Attached to the top of the gym's ceiling was a party light, shooting rays of colored light in all directions. It was now time for the dance. People rose from their seats with their partners and went to the center of the gym.

"Alright, time to dance." Natalie said to Ray.

He took a deep breath.

"Okay...man...getting nervous all of the sudden."

"Just relax. We've practiced all week. Just focus on me and we'll do great."

Natalie grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor. There, they assumed the pose and started dancing. They just focused on each other, tuning out the other people dancing around them. They couldn't help but gaze into each other's eyes. Natalie didn't make any attempt to look away. She savored this. They both did. As they danced, they chatted.

"You know, I've told you my last name and I don't think you ever returned the favor." she noted.

"You're right. I haven't. My bad. It's Rosario."

She grinned with amusement.

"Ray Rosario. Ha. Those initials..."

"Yeah, yeah. 'R' and 'R'."

"It's cute. I like it so much."

"Glad you like my name. I got it for my birthday."

She didn't roll her eyes at his humor this time. She allowed herself to laugh. She also allowed herself to rest her head against his chest. There, she heard his beating heart like never before. And he was so warm, so pleasantly warm. In her mind, she thought about how she could be like this forever. All the thought of how this was only a prom date faded away. They both felt in their souls that it meant something so much more. As they danced, from a table a good distance away, four girls looked on amazed.

"Well look at that! They're dancing!" Ashley exclaimed.

"We should've made a bet." Heather added.

"Ah, if you proposed such a bet I would've said no because who could've guessed? Tell me, would anyone here ever imagine that they'd dance at prom?"

They all shook their heads.

"I would've said 'no way'." Valarie noted.

"Same here." chimed in Emma.

They looked at the dancers for a few more minutes. Then, Valarie grabbed Emma's hand.

"C'mon. Let's dance."

"You sure? People will see and start putting two and two together."

"I don't care. I want to dance with my girlfriend."

Emma smiled and nodded eagerly.

"Me too."

The couple went off and joined the other dancers on the floor. Now just the two of them at the table, Heather and Ashley looked at each other.

"Well, uh, there really isn't anything else to do tonight." Ashley said.

"Yeah, nothing else but to..." Heather started.

"...Dance." Ashley finished.

They stood up from the table.

"I want to dance until I drop from exhaustion." Heather declared.

"Woah!" Ashley remarked with surprise. "Well then! Let's do it!"

So, they danced. Danced into the night. Those with dates danced in the arms of their partner. Those without dates, too, joined in on the fun. They danced with their friends just by their side. How long did they dance? No one knew or cared. It was a time where they could just forget about all of their stresses. In school and in life. A time where they could just spend time with the people they cared about and form memories to last a lifetime. As the hour grew late, most have stopped dancing and retired to their tables. Checking her phone, Valarie was surprised by the time.

"It's midnight. Wow. Time flew by."

"Midnight? I figured. I'm getting tired. So...tired." Emma said as she leaned against Valarie.

The two girls were tired, but for Heather and Ashley, they were exhausted.

"You...weren't kidding. If we danced just a minute more I would've dropped to the floor." Ashley said, panting

"I was, uh, joking but when I started dancing I felt compelled to actually do it." Heather said.

Prom night was coming to a close. The could see people taking their leave and exiting the gym.

"That's our cue then. Let's go." Valarie said.

Already outside, Ray and Natalie stood next to each other. The freshness of the outdoor air felt great compared to the stuffy gym.

"I had a good time. A real good time." Natalie said.

"Me too. My first prom. Heh. It went pretty well." Ray remarked. He then coughed." Well, uh, thanks for teaching me to dance which made me come here in the first place."

"My pleasure. It was fun teaching you to dance and, uh, taking you to prom."

They both had their hands behind their back. They rocked back and forth. Each wanted to do something but nervousness has taken root in both of them.

"So..." Ray uttered, but his voice trailed off. Then his face lit up as he thought of something to say. "Oh! Do you wanna hang out during our lunch period since the lessons are over?"

Natalie processed what she heard and nodded excitedly.

"Yes...yes!" she exclaimed then composed herself. "I mean, sure, whatever. It'll make lunch go by faster."

"Great!"

Again, a silence fell between them. Their hands twitched, with their fingers fidgeting in place. Already, do they miss being held. Above them in the sky was a crescent moon, shining brilliantly on them. Ray scratched the back of his head and let out a nervous laugh.

"Well, uh...good night. See you Monday."

"Y-yeah. Good night. See you then."

They said good-bye to each other but still lingered, hoping that the other would say something else but the nervousness that existed between them was too great. Soon, they did turn and depart. The night was fun but they went home disappointed. Disappointed at themselves. They had dreamed the night ending in a different way, something more intimate than just saying 'good-night' to each other. Now, that chance was gone but there would be others. It's just a matter of finding the next, perfect, opportunity. Once they left, Emma, Valarie, Heather, and Ashley were in a group outside.

"Prom was great." Emma commented. She then hugged Valarie from behind. "And made much more special with you."

The two giggled as they giggled.

"Ah. So great. Any plans for, well, I guess later today." Valarie asked.

"Mmm. No, I don't have any plans." Emma responded.

As if on cue, Ashley squeezed herself right between them and wrapped her arms around them.

"Hey. You guys wanna see a nuke shelter being busted open?"


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout shelter opens and it is a treasure trove.

_May 5th, 2013 _

The Mojave Rose campus was still populated, not with students, but with workers. At around nine o'clock, a team of workers arrived at the school. They along, with some school officials, congregated at where the old science building once stood. Just underneath its neglected foundation lay a bomb, sealed for over two decades. A relic of a previous era. Redwood has been on the site since the early morning, sleeping little as he was serving as a chaperon for prom the previous night. With him on this day was Buchanan, who tagged along because the whole thing interested her. She always wondered what that shelter looked like, never having a chance to see within when she attended the school all those years ago. She stood to the side as Redwood conversed with a worker.

"So, what's the story here? What can we expect?" asked one of the workers.

"Ah, a fallout shelter from the sixties later repurposed into a storage facility sometime in the eighties. Info is sparse. I can't really say what is in there as it was sealed up when demolition began for the old science building."

"Uh-huh. So a nuke shelter slash warehouse. Better be some interesting stuff in there."

"Hey, here's hoping."

The worker left and now the two were just with each other.

"Tell me, Martin, when did the old science building get knocked down? I don't remember any construction when we were students here."

"It was after our time. They started work in July of 1990."

Redwood expected a quick response but she became silent. He then realized why.

"Gabby, you alright?" he asked, voice concerned. He laid a hand on her shoulder and caressed her gently.

"Yeah. I just...it's just a coincidence right?" she asked, slightly agitated.

"Yes. And I know that for a fact because the school planned a year in advance to build a new science building. With what happened to you during your match, combined with demolition and construction, July was a very chaotic time for the school."

"The same can be said for me."

Redwood led her to a nearby bench and they sat together, basking in the warmth of the rising sun and enjoying the breeze of a soft wind. They watched as the workers got their tools in order for the job ahead of them. Not long after they sat down did they then hear the sound of footsteps, growing closer. Coming into view were four familiar teenage girls.

"Morning ladies. It seems like the news of the opening of the shelter has spread around a bit." Redwood said to them.

"Yeah, someone leaked. Wasn't me." Ashley said wryly.

"Oh, I'm sure."

"When will they start working" Heather inquired.

Immediately, the sound of swinging sledgehammers filled the air with their crude bashes against the concrete.

"About several seconds ago." Redwood replied. " It shouldn't take too long. They just have to go through a layer to access the entrance of the shelter."

The four girls and sat with the two adults and they all waited and watched. The workers with their sledgehammers wreaked havoc on the concrete. Pieces of rubble flew in all directors with every impact, raining down with little dings once they hit the ground. Soon, in the air around the workers, formed a gray, powdery cloud, compelling them to don face masks. Though a good distance away, Redwood and the rest could smell the smashed rubble. He was correct on saying that they wouldn't take long. In an hour, they were done and were now sweeping the area clean and hauling off the debris. Heather and Ashley jumped up from where they sat and were visibly excited.

"They're done! They cracked the place open!" Ashley exclaimed

"Almost!" Redwood informed. "There was still one more thing to do." Standing up, he gestured them all to follow.

At the site, there was now a large rectangular hole in the foundation. Before them was a concrete path that curved downward that led to a large pair of heavy metal doors. It was incredibly rusted but was as strong as ever.

"There it is." Redwood announced. "The Mojave Rose High School fallout shelter."

He approached the door, where on its handles, were a lock and chains. Digging out of his pocket, he got out an old key. With a twist of his wrist, the lock was undone and the chains fell to the ground.

"Over twenty years of being hermetically sealed, now to soon be opened."

Before doing anything, he turned back to look at Ashley and Heather.

"I believe the two ladies who first suggested this idea ought to be the ones who open this shelter."

With beaming smiles, the two girls ran up the door, each grabbing a handle. Together, they pulled. The large doors didn't budge at first but after some persistence, it yielded to the pressure. Slowly, it opened, creaking loudly as it did. The aged darkness within the shelter was then vanquished by the rays of the outside sun. Taking breaths, Heather and Ashley then recoiled back and waved their hands in front of their faces.

"Ugh! The air stinks!" Ashley remarked.

"Gross stale air." Heather commented.

Emma and Valarie joined them. The sun only illuminated a small portion of the shelter with the rest still shrouded in darkness.

"Hmm. Pretty spooky." Valarie noted.

"Yeah. We got any flashlights around here?" Emma asked.

Redwood went and brought them what they needed, along with some face masks. He then told them some words of warning.

"Before we all head in there, let's all be aware that this place has not been touched in over two decades. It's been in a state of neglect. So, let's exercise some caution here and be smart with our exploring"

The girls nodded, strapped on their masks, flashlights on, and walked into the shelter. Slowly, they went forward. With their lights, they shined at every possible spot to get a good feeling for the place. The entire floor was concrete with the walls made of cinder blocks. In the large room they were in, there were crates and other storage containers strewn all about collected in neat piles. Walking up to one, Ashley saw and read the label on the lid

_Rations_

"Ooh." she reacted.

The crate was weakened with age so prying off the lid took no effort at al. Peering inside, she saw all sorts of neat things.

"Ah man, look at this," she said, voice slightly muffled by her mask. "Canned water, dehydrated food, and, woah, cigarettes?"

She picked up a pack and examined it closely.

"Cool."

Walking quickly, Redwood went up to her and plucked the cigarettes from her hands."

"I'll be taking that, thank you very much."

"Hey, I wasn't gonna smoke them or anything. Why are they in rations anyway?"

"Ah, it was a different time."

The exploration continued and more relics of the past were discovered. On the walls were various vintage signs. One detailed the symptoms of radiation poisoning. Another was one that displayed the black-and-yellow trefoil symbol. A symbol synonymous with the atomic age. The fallout shelter was more than just the one room they entered it. There were corridors that lead to other sections. Valarie and Emma went down one and found themselves in a sizable room, filled with cots. They were still neatly made as they never been slept in.

"This is where all the students would've slept had the bombs ever drop." Valarie said.

"The fact that they are still tidy freaks me out a little." Emma remarked.

They continued walking. Along the wall were shelves where people would have stored their belongings. They were bare save for one device on them. Grabbing it, Valarie looked closer and her eyes lit up realizing what it was.

"Oh! A Geiger counter! Wonder if it still works?" Valarie exclaimed as she fiddled with it."

"I'm running if I hear the thing tick, just to let you know." Emma said, half-joking.

Chuckling, Valarie set the thing down.

"I think it's broken anyway and I sincerely_ doubt_ there's anything radioactive here. C'mon. Let's keep poking around."

Back at the main room, Heather and Ashley continued to explore every inch. Ashley, in particular, was deadset on opening each and every crate she came across to learn their contents. Most things she found were related to the fallout shelter; more rations, medical supplies, obsolete radio, and other artifacts from the sixties. The rest were things that the school stored there when they had nowhere else to go such as desks, chairs, old athletic uniforms, and deteriorating textbooks. As she opened another crate, she then gasped at its contents for the first time.

"My God! Ammo belts!" she exclaimed

Being nearby, Heather rushed over to her.

"Ammo belts?" she repeated.

"Yeah, yeah...oh! There's a piece of paper here."

Grabbing it, she read it aloud.

"ATA-sanctioned .50 caliber rounds. For the M2 Browning Machine Gun."

They exchanged eager glances.

"Oooh, tankery supplies? That's a nice treat" Heather commented.

"Tankery supplies?" asked Buchanan, who too was looking around and joined them upon hearing their commotion.

"Yes, Miss Buchanan, we found some. This crate is filled with machine-gun rounds" Heather shared.

Buchanan looked at the ammo crate with great curiosity.

"Hmm. Never thought we'd find anything tankery related. Good going girls. Let's keep up the search. Who knows what we'll find in here."

The three searched together, passing pile after piles of containers, which were quickly searched but nothing of relevance was found. They turned into an aisle with crates piled high to the ceiling on either side. In the middle of the aisle was what looked like a pipe, angled downward, placed across the aisle. If none of them were shining their lights on it, they would have certainly walked into it.

"That pipe must've got dislodged from wherever it was stored." Buchanan mused.

Ashley walked up to lift it but it refused to be moved.

"This is one heavy pipe."

They all ducked under it to continue their search. Just a few inches from this pipe, Heather happened to glance at an inscription on a crate.

"T44 HVAP." she read aloud. "What's HVAP?"

"High-velocity armor-piercing." Buchanan answered. "Looks like we found some more ammunition."

"Hell yeah! Special rounds for the T-44!" Ashley remarked with excitement.

"No, it's not ammo for the T-44." Buchanan corrected, deflating her joy.

"How can you tell?"

"Because HVAP is what the U.S calls APCR. This ammo is for an American tank."

"Okay, but what tank specifically?" Ashley asked.

"I don't know. Whatever it is, it's not a tank that was on my old team. T44 HVAP...what tank took you?"

"I'm, ah, drawing blanks?" Ashley said.

"Same here." Heather added.

"Ugh. Me too. If I ever knew the tank, I forgot it long ago." Buchanan said

They all looked down at the crate, pondering. Then, the answer hit them. They all rose their heads.

"Valarie!" they said in near unison.

They yelled her name and soon they heard the sound of hurried footsteps. Valarie came as quickly as she could, nearly colliding face-first with the pipe.

"Woah!" she yelled.

"Oh! Careful now. You nearly face planted yourself there." Buchanan warned.

"Heh. It wouldn't be the first time. So, what's up?"

"We found some tank rounds labeled T44 HVAP. Got any idea what tank that would be for?"

"T44 HVAP? God! That's so familiar but I just can't remember the name of the tank! I can see it in my mind."

She paced around, deep in thought. She then placed her hand against the pipe to lean upon. Doing so, she squinted. She felt up the pipe and aimed her light on it. The pipe was painted a dull olive color. It was a shade of color she had seen one vehicle she has read about. Looking down the pipe, she saw things that obscured the ending of it. Moving some things away, revealed a muzzle break.

"This isn't a pipe. It's a gun."

They all looked up the barrel now, where it was connected too.

"Let's see who this gun belongs too."

The began to move crates and other objects. They all learned that all these items were hiding a vehicle, nearly completely. Once the work was done, they all shined they lights on it. The gun was attached to a tank, and an impressive one at that. It was large in size, comparable to the IS-3. It had spaced armor welded on its front hull and on the gun mantlet. Armor cannibalized from a German Panther. Valarie was grinning from ear to ear. She knew exactly what the tank was. An American tank made and deployed in the final days of the Second World War, only seeing action once in Europe. A medium tank that moves as fast a heavy tank. Valarie tapped her hands on the front hull with glee, giggly uncontrollably.

"Ladies. What is parked in front of us is something truly special. Give a warm welcome to the T26E4 Super Pershing."

They looked on with awe as Valarie explained the specs.

"With heavy armor and a 90mm gun, this thing can withstand hell while giving it back. All while moving at the breakneck speed of twenty-two miles per hour."

Buchanan then became utterly confused.

"How the fuck did this get here?"

The girls looked at her, surprised, and amused. Buchanan became slightly red.

"Ah, excuse my language. I'm just _really_ surprised that there's a tank in the shelter."

Once enough time was spent in the shelter, everyone was back topside. Outside, Buchanan went up to Redwood.

"Martin. There's a tank down there. A damn Super Pershing. Why is it down there?"

"I, uh, don't know. I didn't expect to find any vehicles, no less a tank!"

"Well, it obviously didn't pop in there from some other dimension. There has to be a paper trail."

Redwood thoughtfully stroked his chin.

"There are some archives that can be dug through. Though they are pretty extensive."

"I'll help you." Buchanan said. She then turned to the T-44 crew. "And you four and helping too."

Redwood led them all to the administrative building to a room filled with nothing but filing cabinets.

"If there is anything about that tank, it'll be in here. Let's get to it."

Another search began. Each person was at a cabinet, opened, and browsed them. The sound of papers and folders being shuffled and opened filled the room. Nothing was found so far, but some interesting things were found.

"Valarie." Emma whispered.

"What?"

"Look at this." Emma said, grinning. She shared with her a photo she found. It was an old school photo of Buchanan.

"Oh my God. That's her, isn't it?" Valarie reacted, giggling softly.

"I know right? And the neon windbreaker? It just _screams _the eighties."

As they enjoyed the photo, Redwood walked up behind them.

"Um. Hi." Valarie said, somewhat embarrassed.

"Hi." Redwood replied. "May I have that photo?"

"Sure." Valarie said, giving it to him. "We weren't making fun of her. Honest."

"I know." Redwood said as he gazed at the photo. "I just want to frame it and gift it to her. Do you think she'll love it?"

Emma and Valarie both nodded enthusiastically and they all resumed searching. On the other side of the room, Heather and Ashley were rummaging through some files. Ashley picked a folder which was filled with photos. Going through it, one photo, in particular, caused her to smirk.

"Well hello Mister Redwood, age seventeen." she said in a low voice.

Heather leaned over her.

"Yep. That's him. He still has the same style of glasses."

"I gotta admit, he's real cute in this picture."

"MmmHmm, very cute."

"I would like to think he's _still _cute" Buchanan said from right behind, startling them both. They both looked embarrassed and stuttered out 'uhs' and 'ums'. Buchanan reached out a hand and Ashley gave her the photo.

"I'll be keeping that." Buchanan said.

"Miss Buchanan, " Ashley began. " Heather and I have been wondering for a while now. Are you and Mister Redwood-"

"Yes." Buchanan answered. "Thanks for digging up that picture. It'll make for a nice gift. Now, let's go back to looking for those records, hmm?"

With nods, they got back to work. Half an hour later, the rustling of papers stopped when Emma then raised a folder in the air.

"Found it!" she yelled, handing it to Redwood.

Opening it, he saw a picture of the Super Pershing. Below it was a trove of information about the vehicle. One bit of info surprised him enough to read it out loud.

"Date of acquisition—July 4th 1990."

A long silence.

"You're...kidding?" uttered Buchanan.

"I'm not." he replied. Redwood read further. "It looks like it was delivered just one hour before your match started."

Buchanan rubbed her face and laughed through her hands.

"Man...what are the odds? What are the god-damn odds?"

"Why was it in the shelter and not in the garage?" Valarie questioned.

"Well, ah, let's see," he said as he reviewed the records. "It was stored in the shelter as a temporary measure as the garage was being renovated. Then, Gabrielle's match happened and its aftermath cause tankery's popularity to plummet. That, and the old science building being demolished, made for a chaotic time. The tank was inadvertently sealed in the shelter and forgotten about.

"Who acquired the tank?"

"The team did" replied Redwood. Seeing their perplexed faces, he clarified. " The old student team, I mean. Not the team Gabrielle was one, you know, the one that aimed to go pro."

Buchanan nodded.

"Well then. Since it was meant for the old student team, then the current one should have every right to claim it, right?

Redwood gave them all a grin.

"Yeah, the thing's ours now!"

_Monday_

For Ray and Natalie, yesterday can be describe with one word; talking. They have been texting each other all day Sunday. Constantly on their phones sending message after message. Yet those conversations were typical. Neither of them had the courage to send a message that contained the emotions they held deep within them. A nervousness has paralyzed them from doing so. Instead, they talked about general things. About their home lives, classes, childhood stories, and other things that made them learn more about each other. When Monday arrived, at lunch, they hung together at a staircase, sitting and chatting.

"Did you see that hole over at where an old building used to be?" Natalie asked.

"Yeah. I wonder if it has to do with the surprise Valarie talked about in the group chat." Ray mused.

"Maybe, maybe. Hopefully, we'll find out later today."

A brief silence. They periodically glanced at each other, drawing smiles and blushes. Their feet fidgeted a bit.

"So, uh," Ray began. "I looked up your last name to see where it came from and I learned it's German."

"MmmHmm," she confirmed. "My family came from Germany."

"When did they come to America?"

"1882. They arrived in a boat at Ellis Island in New York and made the trek across the country to reach the west coast. It's quite the journey. When my family was traveling, they made a journal and took photos and made a book describing their adventure from Germany to California. It became a family heirloom."

"That's beyond cool! You still got family in Germany?"

"Yes. My mom took me there a few years back. It was a great trip, seeing the sights and meeting family."

"You know any German?"

Natalie let out a little laugh.

"Just enough to hold a basic conversation. My parents know more, obviously, but compared to a native German, we're not really fluent. We are a few generations removed from the true Germans in our family."

"Still, it's all so cool and cute"

She blushed faintly.

"Well, that's my brief family history. What about you?"

"My family hasn't been in this country nearly as long as yours have. In fact, my parents and I are the only people in our family in America. My parents lived in Mexico City before making the huge decision to move to California. My mom was pregnant with me during the move and I was born just two days later when my parents settled into town.

"Wow, just two days later?"

"Yeah, my mom was freaking out that she'd give birth during the move. When her water broke, she and my dad were beyond excited. My dad later told me that during the drive to the hospital, they were celebrating the fact that I was being born in the U.S."

"For citizenship, yeah?"

"Yep. They knew that having citizenship will open so many opportunities for me. More opportunities than them."

He got quiet for a moment.

"You, uh, never realize how much your parents do for you, huh?" Ray said.

"Yeah. You take their love for granted sometimes."

"Mmm. And though my parents are relatively new to the country, they are very much Americanized. But not so much that they totally forget where they come from."

Ray opened a pocket in his backpack and got out a rosary. It was handmade and well-crafted. The necklace composed of wooden beads painted a rose-red color. It was all held together with a metal chain. The main piece was, of course, the crucifix. It was made of silver and nicely polished. Ray handed it to Natalie who studied it closely.

"This is...beautiful!" she complimented.

"Thanks. My aunt made it for my mom before her and my dad left for America so that they would have a safe trip. Then, when I joined the team, my mom gave it to me so that I would be safe in our matches."

"That's so lovely. But, why aren't you wearing it now?"

"I only wear it during matches. If I wore it all the time, it'll just increase the chances of getting it damages and I do not want that."

"I can understand that."

The bell to end lunch rang.

"See you later. Oh, and when I told you that my family was from Germany, thanks for not asking the question damn near everyone asks." Natalie said.

"And what would that be?"

"That if anyone in my family was a Nazi."

Ray gave her a comforting smile.

"It never crossed my mind, honestly. And, thank you for not asking if my parents jumped the border. I get asked that way more than I like."

"That's just rude."

"I know right? Besides, they tunneled under it anyway."

He laughed as he saw Natalie's astounded face.

"God...Ray!" she exclaimed, laughing

"I'm kidding, of course. See you later, Nat."

He got his things and walked down the stairs, heading off to class. Natalie's heart fluttered. He called her 'Nat' again and absolutely loved it. She was disappointed that their time together at lunch ended but this feeling was brief. She'll see him later today, and the next day, and so on. She'll never get enough of him because of how strongly she felt for him.

_Later_

For the entire day, the team wondered what 'surprise' was in store in them at the garage that Valarie alluded to in the group chat. Upon arriving at the garage, they found out quickly what she meant. The Super Pershing was impossible to miss and it was immediately surrounded by the team to get up close and personal. They all chatted excitedly over how powerful it looked.

"In what world is this a medium tank?" one student questioned.

Standing outside the crowd, Valarie and Ray looked on.

"What a find. And to think that the thing was under our feet the whole time." he remarked

"Yeah, it's funny how things turn out. And what's better is that since it was underground, it was preserved in a way. It's in great shape. All it needed was some fuel."

"Amazing. So, where's the crew for it?"

"Ah, they should be here any minute now. In the meantime, I'll get the tank ready for them."

With a whistle, she got the team's attention.

"That's enough ogling. Tend to your vehicles."

They complied and the team went to their tanks. It was now just Ray and Valarie at the Super Pershing, waiting for the crew to arrive to give them orientation.

"You think it'll be another coed crew?" Ray asked

"No clue. There's always a chance."

Then, walking in the main garage entrance, were four girls. New people.

"Ah. Guess not. Oh well." Ray noted.

One of the girls, upon getting closer, captured their attention. It was her face that got them looking. Tattoos. On each cheek were symmetrical 'X' patterns. They joined with vertical strips that ran from the edge of her forehead down to her chin. They were in a bright blue color, that contrasted with her skin, a tan color similar to Ray's complexion, though slightly darker. As she approached, her thick black hair danced side to side. The four new members of the team were already in their uniforms and stood before Ray and Valarie.

"The team's leadership, I presume?" she asked.

It took a moment for Valarie to regain her focus.

"Um. Yeah. That's us."

The new girl sported a huge grin and grabbed both of their hands, shaking them.

"Well alright!" she exclaimed eagerly. "We've always wanted to join the team but whenever space was available it got taken like that!" she said, snapping her fingers. "Finally! We got lucky!" The new girl then walked to Super Pershing. "So, this huge thing ours?"

"Yep. You all got a powerful machine to operate. T26E4 Super Pershing."

"With 'super' in the name, I expect nothing but power."

"So true. Now, before we go any further. What is your name?"

"Louise."

"Pretty name! Oh, there is another question. I'm very curious about-"

"My tattoos?" Louise interrupted.

"Yeah, ah, what's up with that?"

"It's a rite of passage in my tribe."

"Tribe?" Valarie asked, awash with curiosity. "What tribe do you belong to?"

"The tribe where this school gets it name from."

Valarie's eyes lit up.

"The Mojave tribe."

"The very one. My parents have been in this town for the past couple of years as part of a cultural outreach project."

"Awesome. Now, onto business. You'll need to get roles assigned and a callsign. Preferable desert-themed.

"Will do. Just give is a moment."

The four new crew members grouped at the tank and talked. Waiting, Valarie and Ray chatted.

"You get to meet so much cool and interesting people through tankery." she commented.

"Oh, for sure. It's amazing." Ray said.

After some time, the new crew returned.

"All our roles have been settled." Louise informed.

"Great! Mind sharing who is doing what job?"

"Not at all!" Louise said. "I'm the commander." She then pointed to the rest of her crew. "Taylor drives, Jocelyn shoots, and Elise loads."

"Good, good, good. Now, your callsign?"

"Ah, yes, just a question. Does our callsign have to be based on something real?"

"Um, it's not really a rule or anything but no one has done that."

"We'll be the first done. How does _Jackalope_ sound as a callsign?"

Valarie thought about the callsign. She loved it.

"Now that's creative! I love it!"

Louise grinned with pride.

"So, what's our orders?" she asked.

"Get familiar with your tank. Explore every inch of your vehicle, and," Valarie said, then she handed her the playbook. "Study this."

The new Super Pershing crew got to work and Valarie and Ray helped when they were needed. Over at the garage office, Redwood and Buchanan were within. Over the weekend, as prom occurred and as the shelter was accessed, the team's vehicles were away being treated by specialists. They all had their protective carbon linings replaced per the ATA's mandate. Buchanan was speaking with Redwood about the procedure.

"It all went nice and smooth," she explained. "Though there was something alarming they found."

"What's that?"

"It was with the IS-3, specifically its underside. A specialist told me that the carbon lining there was in the worst shape he has ever seen. It wouldn't have stopped a machine gun round from penetrating, it was that bad.

"Oh man." Redwood uttered. "That's a major problem. Good thing it's fixed."

"Yeah, good thing. Though, in tankery, a tank getting hit in its underside is such a rarity. To get a shot at a tank's underside, it would need to be on its side. What happened in the Montana match is a perfect example. You'll see that once a year, at best."

"Hmm. But what if something exploded under a tank with a bad lining?"

"Like what? A mine?" Buchanan scoffed. "Who would be so extreme to do that?"

_That Evening_

Coming home from practice, Valarie headed for her room. She took off her uniform and hung it on the back of her door. She kicked off her boots, grabbed a towel, and had a quick shower. Now refreshed, she put on her sleepwear, a simple t-shirt and shorts, and plopped on her bed. She wasn't tired. Not yet anyway. It was nine in the evening so she had some time to kill. Walking to her closet, she dragged out a box and rummaged through it, getting out some VHS tapes. Old tapes of tankery matches. She looked at them with a smile. A rush of nostalgia had hit her and watching these tapes will take care of that. A tape was inserted into her player and the lights were turned off. The glow of her TV was the only thing illuminating her room. She laid on her bed, on her stomach, her hands propping up her head to watch. She had seen these tapes countless times before but they never diminished in entertainment. But they did in quality. Vigorous use and the sands of time have deteriorated them. The colors have weakened, transforming into a lighter hue. Valarie definitely remembered them being more vibrant. Every once in a while, strings of white flashes would appear across the screen. This was accompanied by static along with the noise becoming somewhat distorted. She had enjoyed these tapes for years, it what made her fall in love with the sport in the first place. One day, she'll have to stop playing them to preserve them. But for tonight, she watched to satisfy her nostalgia. Late into the night, the tape was done playing and the screen flashed to a bright blue color, showering the room with its light. Valarie had long fallen asleep, enjoying sweet dreams. She dreamed of being in a serene forest, with a roaring campfire right by her side. Something that in the coming days will become real.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing beats time at the great outdoors!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the tardy upload. I've had less time to write and edit this chapter. It is a meaty one, so hopefully, that'll make up for it. Enjoy!

_Saturday, May 10th 2013_

Ever since the team got organized last October, they have gone through a lot. The first challenge they overcame hit them early on. When the ATA made the move to start the national tournament earlier than announced, as to not overlap with the world competition, it gave the team mere weeks to get ready for their first match as opposed to the original few months. Just weeks to go from complete amateurs to being component tankers. This they succeeded in, even though some of the team privately held doubts if what they have done in those weeks was enough to get ready. This doubt was eradicated when they won their first match against Bascom. Then there was their match with Oceanside. Their T95, a heavily armored tank destroyer, was a machine that no gun on their team could ever hope to penetrate from the front. And its front was always pointing at them, the 105mm gun ending anything it fired upon. It took some last-minute brainstorming to come up with a way to deal with that machine, using the hills against them. Another victory and another learning experience gained. Their match with Oceanside gave Mojave Rose valuable insight on using the environment against their opponents. Their following match with Valentine was rather one-sided. A well-placed shot in an abandoned gasoline depot ignited a huge explosion that took out ten enemy vehicles. That and the sandstorm that enveloped the battlefield disorientated an already weakened team that Mojave Rose swept them up. All of those matches were taken seriously but they were fun and there was this healthy spirit of competition that existed between the schools. With their Montana match, though, things were different. Tankery matches were exhausting for a lot of reasons, but at Montana, it was even more so. There was this hate that shouldn't have been there in the first place. This and all the other personal adversities experienced by each member of the team outside of the team made them feel continuously weary. And if anyone on the team could claim to be the most tired was Valarie, and not one person would object to that. Being not only the commander of the T-44 but also the team's captain, these two roles hung on her like a heavy iron chain. Though she did very much enjoy the responsibilities these roles entail, it did wear her down. That and enduring homelessness for a time made Valarie, along with everyone else, deserving for some rest and relaxation. So, when Redwood announced that the team was going to have a weekend getaway to the mountains, they were all overcome with relief and eagerness.

"To reward you all for the work and effort you have put in this team, we're all going to spend the weekend up in Big Bear. We're going to do nothing tankery related. Just enjoy the fresh mountain air." he told them earlier in the week.

So, early Saturday morning, the team met at the school. All of them wearing outdoorsy clothing along with bags of their belongings to get them through the weekend. Each commander was instructed to bring a tent big enough for their crews as they were all going to share it. Now, this wasn't an issue at all as when the team traveled, crews shared hotel rooms. For Jacqueline, however, she noted a possible complication.

"Six of us in a hotel room is already pretty cramped but in a tent? We'll all gonna be bunched up." she determined.

"Well, that works in our favor actually!" Lana said, the driver of the SU-14. "It gets cold in Big Bear at night so all of us bundled together will make us nice and warm."

"Hmm. That's true."

Among the crowd, Ray had his things at the ready. One of the things he was bringing, however, was drawing some curiosity. Natalie approached him and eyed it with intrigue.

"What's with the cooler?" she asked, pointing.

"Ingredients," he answered, tapping the cooler with his foot. "I plan on doing some campfire cooking."

"What'll you be cooking?"

Ray pulled the cooler closer to him with his legs.

"You're just gonna have to wait and see."

She put on a playful pout. A small nervousness then manifested in her as she asked another question.

"Um...do you mind if I sit with you on the bus?" she asked, with some stutters and voice slightly cracking.

"Not, uh, not at all." he answered, cheeks faintly blushing.

Soon, their bus arrived. The team stowed their belongings, boarded the bus, and got comfortable. Once everyone was all set, they were off. Big Bear was only over an hour away so they wouldn't be on the bus for too long. One of the great aspects of California was its geography. It was very possible to spend the morning in the sands of the desert, an afternoon high in the mountains, and end the day at the shores of the pacific ocean. The trip went smoothly. The desert landscape exchanged for something more green and lively. As they ascended in elevation, the windows showed the team towering trees as far as the eye can see. When the bus drove over a bridge, to their left, they saw Big Bear Lake, its vivid blue waters a beautiful sight. It was noon when they arrived at the campground Redwood has reserved. Upon getting off the bus, Buchanan immediately noticed that something was already there waiting for them.

"Martin, is that the DPV parked under that tree?" she questioned him.

"I may have arranged for it to be here when we arrived so that, perhaps, the team could take turns taking the thing off-roading."

Buchanan shot him a smile.

"I think we'll do that. But first, let's get everything set up."

The team for their things from the bus and got to work propping up their tents. As none of them have been camping before, the process of getting their tents in order took longer than they anticipated. The instructions were referred to more times than anyone could bear to count. After numerous mistakes, frustrations, and some swearing, all of their tents were finally up and could take in the surroundings. Just several yards from their campground was the lake, its waters kissing the shore, producing a calming sound. At their tent, the T-44 crew took a moment to admire their work.

"Finally. That took way longer than it should. It can't be that hard to pitch up a tent." Valarie remarked.

"Ah, I think guys can pitch up real good tents with ease. If you know what I mean." Ashley said, letting out some chuckles.

"Um, no? Ray and his friends had as much trouble as everyone with getting their tent in order."

Ashley looked at Heather and Emma with a bewildered face, who shared the same expressions. When it comes to a certain aspect of life, Valarie was incredibly naive of it. To an annoying, but also, amusing degree. With their little area all set, they decided on their next course of action.

"So, what now? Can we do something fun?" Heather asked.

Valarie looked around the area and laid her eyes on the DPV.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm in the mood for some off-roading. How about you?"

Her friends answered her question with enthusiastic smiles. They rushed toward the DPV. Once there, they noticed an obvious problem.

"Um. There are only three seats and there's four of us." Heather noted.

"Hmm." Valarie sounded. She learned over the vehicle to examine it more closely. "If someone sat on another's lap, we'll all squeeze in. That'll solve the problem."

"Ah, that could work," Emma said. "So, who's gonna sit on who?"

Valarie looked at her with enticing eyes.

"Mmm. I should've known." Emma said with a warm grin.

With the seating resolved, they got in the DPV. Heather, habitually, was in the driver's seat with Ashley in the passenger seat right beside her. In the third seat, behind and above them was Emma, sitting on Valarie's lap. It was cozy. Very cozy. Far cozier than either of them initially thought.

"Snug?" Valarie asked her, wrapping her arms around her waist tightly.

"Snug." was Emma's reply.

"Alright! Time to roll!" Heather exclaimed.

The ignition was started and the engine erupted into life. Heather toyed with the throttle which made the whole vehicle pleasantly vibrate, Once she teased the engine enough, the DPV lurched forward and they were off. They turned onto a dirt path, passing by a sea of trees on either side. As the path straightened out, Heather did not resist flooring it, moving fast across the woodland. The thrill was intoxicating. The sensation of the air hitting their faces was something that they loved. They couldn't go this fast in their T-44, even though they adored their machine so much. Just sometimes, you feel a need for speed. Every so often, they'd drive over a hump in the ground, which would launch the car into the air slightly before returning to the ground with an exciting jolt. When they saw more bumps upcoming in the path, Heather was begged by her friends to go faster, who was more than happy to comply. After some more exhilarating driving, the path took them to a serene place. The lake was now at their right, surface glittering with the rays of the sun. Here, Heather slowed down with her friends making no objections. They all gazed out toward the lake with all its majesty. Heather then found a good place to park, just a few feet from the water's edge. They all got out and stood by water.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Emma said.

They all nodded. Already was the lake making them feel relaxed and at peace. Valarie knelled down on the ground, soft and wet, and sunk her hand under the water. It felt wonderfully cool on her skin. She splashed some water on her face and found it incredibly refreshing.

"Ahh, that's nice." she commented.

The rest of her friends joined her and refreshed themselves with the lake water. Heather decided to take things farther by forming a cup with her hands, getting some water, and drinking it. The sound of her slurps alarmed them all.

"Heather!?" Ashley exclaimed. "You're drinking from the lake?"

"Yeah. It's nice and cold."

"But what if you get sick?"

"Then I get sick."

Ashley looked like she was about to say something else but thought otherwise and shrugged. The four of them admired the lake for several minutes, soaking in the serenity. After enjoying the view and breathing in that crisp mountain air, they returned to the DPV. This time, Valarie wanted to drive.

"My turn!" she said as she seized the driver's seat.

The rest of her friends became anxious.

"um, Val, are you really sure you want to drive?" Ashley asked with a slight uneasiness in her voice.

"Yes, I do! It's fun!"

"But you suck at driving," Heather said bluntly. "When we all practiced with the IS-3 back when the team practiced, you stalled it faster than anyone else."

Valarie looked hurt.

"But how can I get better at driving if I don't drive?"

None of them could provide an adequate rebuttal and acquiesced.

"Okay. You can drive but take it easy, alright? We're on no deadline here to get back to camp."

Everyone got in the car and strapped in. In the third seat, it was Ashley who sat on Heather's lap. They held on to each other tightly in preparation for the ride ahead of them.

"Tell me, Ashley, are you religious?" Heather inquired.

"Ask me again when we get back to camp. Or if we get back.

* * *

At the camp, the team was enjoying the atmosphere. With the lake within walking distance, most opted to hang around the shore and skipped rocks on top of the water's surface. Well, those that knew how did that. Those that didn't were just throwing rocks into the lake in one big splash. Still, even that was fun. For the students not by the lake, there were lounging by their tents in chairs chatting or taking naps. This weekend was where doing nothing was more than acceptable. It was nice to do nothing at times. It allows one's soul to take it easy and recharge. That is a lesson Buchanan has been teaching Redwood since their relationship started.

"You better not even think about work. This is our vacation, in a way." she said to him.

"I promise, I won't. I want to relax as much as you and everyone else."

She gave him a pleased look.

"Good!" she said as she scooted her chair closer to his. Their eyes locked on to each other and did not avert away. She then decided to throw him a hefty question.

"What do you see in me?"

Redwood exhaled sharply over such a question coming out of nowhere, but let out a little laugh.

"If I explain each and every reason why I love you, we'll be here all weekend, and beyond."

"I wouldn't, ah, mind that at all." she replied in a low voice, blushing slightly.

They shared a laugh and reclined in their seats. The rest of the team were in similar states of relaxation. At one tent, the Cromwell crew were out exploring in the woods just next to them. Though there were still some hours of daylight left, they opted to look for some firewood now as to not do it last minute. Sage, the commander of the Cromwell, cautiously walked forward. She was as vigilant for firewood as she was keeping an eye for any little critter that she could come across. She hoped that she didn't walk into some lizard or frog...or worse. A spider. Anything with more than four legs creeped her out like nothing else on Earth. That happens to include virtually every insect known to humanity. Thankfully, they were no creepy crawlies in her path so she collected firewood in peace. She leaned down and picked up another branch. She turned back to go back to camp when a sound high in the trees caused her ears to perk up with excitement.

"Ooh!" she exclaimed, dropping the wood she collected.

She ventured off toward the source of the sound. Walking, she played with her long brown hair, as she tends to do so when excited. Part of her hair was a tied cheetah-print hairband. This piece of fashion has been a part of her attire since elementary school. The sound she was hearing was this pecking sound. Approaching a tree, she looked up. There, she saw what was making the noise. It was exactly what she thought it was.

"Woodpecker!" she yelled with glee.

The rest of her crew joined her.

"Huh? Oh yeah, it is," Ivy remarked, the Cromwell's driver. "Just wrecking that wood. You do you, bird."

"Specifically, it's an acorn woodpecker. A female one. You can tell by its red feathers behind its head. If it was a male, then the red feathers would be on the top of its head, like a cap."

"Alright, bird expert," Elizabeth, the Cromwell's gunner, teased. "Why is it called an acorn woodpecker?"

"Because it pecks holes into the trunks of trees and stores acorns in them."

They all watched the bird as it worked, its head moving rapidly. After some more pecks, it leaned back a bit to look at its progress, then flew away. The girls lost sight of the thing quickly thereafter.

"Beautiful things. I was hoping to do a little bird watcher over the trip and it's already on a good start." Sage explained.

Satisfied, she retraced her steps, gathered back the wood she dropped and they all returned to their area and went back to relaxing. Not too far from them was the IS-3. The boys looked at Ray with an ever-increasing curiosity. They wanted to know what he brought in his cooler.

"So, are you gonna tell us the food you brought or what?" Ryan asked

Ray looked at him with a rather smug smile and gave him a simple answer.

"Not yet." He then reached into his bag and got out a cast-iron skillet. "It'll be good though, believe me."

As he prepared, the DPV made its return. Valarie parked and got out of the car. There was a huge grin on her face.

"See? I'm not half bad at driving."

The faces of her friends said otherwise.

"Valarie, I gotta be honest. I've had smoother rides." Emma admitted.

"There must be a higher power for how else could've we survived a drive like that?" Ashley commented, taking deep breathes.

"All the bumps, swerves, shakes, and stalls if drinking that lake water won't make me sick, your driving definitely will."

Valarie crossed her arms and looked at her friends, pouting.

"Okay guys, I think you're all _exaggerating_ just a tad bit."

"You just need more practice. A. Lot. More." Ashley encouraged.

After soaking in their feedback, Valarie nodded in agreeance. She glanced up toward the sky and using her hand as a shield looked toward the sun. It has long already reached its zenith and was well on its way to slink beneath the horizon. The day was already cool in temperature and now with the sun setting, combined with the periodic gust of wind, it was making the mercury drop. Shivering slightly, she turned toward her crew.

"Let's get a fire going, hmm?"

They weren't the only ones with the idea. Once everyone in the team felt the chill of the approaching night, campfires were lit left and right. Ray now found the time was right to do some cooking. At his crew's campfire, he stoked the flames and tended the fire. After some time, the wood burned to coals. Ready for cooking. He carefully laid the skillet on the coals.

"Finally! What're you gonna make?" Cesar asked.

"Fajitas," Ray answered. He then opened the cooler and got out a bag of shrimp. "Shrimp fajitas."

His crew became eager as their hunger grew. They watched with anticipation as Ray prepped the meal. He got out a bowl and first made the seasoning. He mixed paprika, chipotle powder, cumin powder, oregano, onion powder, and salt in the bowl. Once all the flavorings were sufficiently mixed, he used half of it to coat the shrimp. Once the shrimp was seasoned, he set it aside and got out some vegetables. He sliced onions and yellow and red bell peppers. Some oil was pouted into the now hot skillet and the sliced vegetables were dropped it, sizzling. The air was filled with an enticing aroma, with the peppers especially making Ray and the rest sneeze.

"Yeah...this is going great!" Ray remarked, amid sneezes.

The vegetables were cooked until they were nice and soft. Ray added in the remaining half of the seasoning into the skillet and mixed it with the vegetables. He then moved them to the side and added the shrimp. The smell of cooking shrimp made them all happy and attracted a visitor.

"...Are you cooking shrimp?" Natalie asked. The aroma hooked her and dragged her over to their area.

"Yep. They're for the fajitas. Would you like some?" Ray offered.

A big smile appeared on her face.

"Yes. I would love that very much."

"Hang around, they'll be ready soon."

Keeping an eye on the cooking shrimp, Ray then laid a griddle on the coals and placed tortillas on them. As they warmed up, he reached into his bag once more and got out some ears of corn. He stuck them on some sticks and planted them near the fire so that they would cook. Natalie watched him with awe. Seeing him cook made him more attractive than ever. Her eyes were filled with a strong emotion, one that was just below the surface. She made no attempt to hide the fact that she was very much gazing at him, twirling her hair. Enough so that Ray's friends noticed and were amused. Yet, Ray himself did not know that he had totally captivated Natalie as he was consumed with his cooking. He looked at the shrimp closely, and once they were nice and pink, took the skillet off the coals and placed it on a picnic table. The food still sizzled and steam was emanating from it, a mouthwatering sight. The tortillas and corn joined the fajitas at the table and dinner were ready. Ray, his friends, and Natalie sat at the table.

"It smells so amazing!" she complimented.

"I second that! And it looks so colorful!" Cesar added.

Ray felt overwhelming pride and couldn't help but to show a grand smile.

"Ah, it's not like its a beef wellington or anything. Fajitas are very easy to make." he said, scratched the back of his head.

"Oh, don't sell yourself short," Natalie told him. "This is great!"

They all began eating and chatting, just having a good time. The rest of the team were also having their own meals, though none as complex as what Ray has done, sparking some envy among some people. At the T-44 crew's area, they were roasting sausages over the fire. By now, it was dusk. The forest has darkened considerably with the temperature falling to below fifty degrees Fahrenheit. Valarie and her friends were close to the fire to not only closely monitor the cooking of their food but to also keep warm. All of them cozied up with blankets.

"You know something?" Heather said as she brought her sausage close to her mouth to blow it cool. "This is the perfect time for a story. Any of you know any good ones?" she asked, taking a bit of her meal.

Valarie upon hearing Heather's request for a story went from being relaxed to excited. She stood from her chair

"I've got a good one. A personal favorite of mine." she declared

"Oh, is it the—" Emma started to ask but Valarie got ahead of her.

"It is. The Prinz Oskar."

Heather and Ashley perked up with interest.

"Prinz...Oskar? The hell is that?" Ashley asked.

Valarie rubbed her hands with anticipation as she walked around the fire, looking into the flames.

"The Prinz Oskar is the name of a German tank. A tank from a war turning one hundred years old next year."

"Oh?" Heather uttered. "Then it can't be from the Second World War, not unless we've entered into some time skip and next year is 2039."

"Nope, not from World War II, but from its devastating prequel. The so-called 'war to end all wars.'" Valarie leaned down to pick up a stick to play with. "The Prinz Oskar was the name of an A7V, Germany's one and only tank design produced. It was armed with six 7.92 MG08 machine guns, three on each side, with the main armament being a 57mm Maxim-Nordenfelt cannon. It was powered by a pair of four-cylinder Daimler petrol engines delivering a total of two hundred horsepower, propelling its twenty-four wheel suspension forward at speeds of around nine miles per hour."

"Not a racer, I take it?" Ashley commented.

"Nope. Nonetheless, it was the German Empire's answer to Britain's heavy tanks. With a crew of eighteen-"

"Eighteen!" Heather reacted. "Wow! Imagine a good chunk of the team just crewing _one_ tank!"

"I know right? Eighteen crewmen. Anyway, the A7V was put into combat late into the war. Germany only made twenty of them which paled in comparison to the thousands of tanks on the Allied side. One of them, the Prinz Oskar. When the war ended, the Prinz Oskar was slated to be scrapped by the Allies but it was around this time that the sport of tankery was formed and the first leagues got organized. The Prinz Oskar was spared from destruction and was acquired by a school in France. It was part of their tankery team, one of the first tankery teams in the world."

"Woah. You know a lot about this one particular tank, huh Valarie?" Ashley remarked.

"The A7V is my all-time favorite tank. I just love those things. They're ugly...but a lovable kind of ugly. And with a mystery attached to the Prinz Oskar, that loves only deepens."

"Mystery?" Heather asked, now hooked.

"Oh yes. The biggest mystery in the sport of tankery, perhaps of any sport. But before I get into it, I'll explain more of its history," Valarie said. She then dipped the tip of her stick into the fire to lit it ablaze. Withdrawing it, she now had a torch to play with. "The Prinz Oskar was part of the French school's tankery team for over twenty years, participating in numerous matches and becoming famous among tankery circles. Then 1940 arrived. And France was invaded by Germany."

Valarie used her torch to agitate the fire, causing it to grow. She then threw it into the fire.

"Eeesh. France just can't get a break." Ashley noted.

"No kidding. Just over a month after their invasion, France fell. Parts of the country was put under German occupation. In addition to all the, well, let's just say, unpleasant things, some German officers went to the French school and, in their words, 'took back what was theirs'. The Prinz Oskars was shipped to Frankfurt. Skipping a few years, Germany lost the war When U.S forces captured the city, they found the Prinz Oskar in a warehouse, seizing the vehicle as a spoil of war. It was then shipped to Texas and donated to a school in Dallas for their own tankery team. By now, the Prinz Oskar was the world's only original A7V still operating. Any other schools with A7Vs just had very accurate replicas."

"Okay, now it's in America. Where does the mystery part kick in?" asked Heather.

Valarie chuckled softly. She stretched her arms.

"Alright, listen closely now. It all happened thirty-eight years ago..."

_December 28th, 1975_

_Dallas, Texas_

Sunday. The weather was cold, for Texas standards. In the extensive suburbs just outside the city, lies Cottontail High School. It was vacant for it was the winter vacation. All the staff and students were at their homes enjoying the final days of the year. It was near midnight. The school was blanketed with darkness with only the street lamps off-campus providing a modicum of illumination. The night would've been a tranquil one, an uneventful night, but history had other things in mind. A heavy-duty flatbed truck approached the school followed by a sedan. Both had their headlights switched off to avoid any undue attention. They stopped before the main gate of the school, locked. A man from the flatbed got out of the truck and with bolt cutters, forced entry. The gate was opened and the two vehicles pressed on. Now on campus, they followed the road to the school's garage where their tankery team stored its vehicles. There, the same man got out of the flatbed and cut away at the locks of the main door of the garage. More men from the sedan joined him and together, they opened the garage doors and walked within. With flashlights, they looked around the interior looking for something in particular. One of them then alerted them with a find.

"There." he said, gesturing his companions to follow.

He led him to what he found. What they were all wanted to find at this garage.

"Prinz Oskar. Right before us. Ha! I knew the information was good. There is no security at this school."

"Don't get all cocky now. The plan ain't done yet." reminded another.

The flatbed was backed-up into the garage the men got to work. One entered the A7V and turned it on. The ramps on the flatbed were deployed and the man carefully drove the A7V onto the flatbed, its weight depressing the truck down. It was a true test of its suspension. Once loaded, the men strapped the thing down to secure it for transit. With that taken care of, a tarp was laid over the machine which was also tied down.

"This tarp is enough, yeah? We don't need to do anything else to hide the thing?" one asked nervously.

"No one's gonna suspect anything. By the time anyone finds out the tank is gone, we'll be outta town. The time is perfect to pull off this job. All the kids and teachers are at home for winter vacation." a man answered.

"Good. We're all set then. Let's get outta here while the sun's still down. Take good advantage of the darkness of the early morning. As you fellas know, people don't remember things good when it's dark."

They all laughed and made their leave. The garage was closed and the two vehicles drove off campus and back onto residential streets. While they were all confident, they were still a bit paranoid. Every time a cop car drove past them, they all held their breath and acted cool and collected. They soon got on the interstate and drove fast toward the Oklahoma state border. Approaching it, the sun was now up and traffic was picking up as people were doing their routine activities. In the sedan, one of the men was listening to a police scanner. So far in their trip, it has been irrelevant chatter when then this was dropped on them.

_"All units be advised, 10-62 has been reported by Cottontail High. Nearest unit please respond."_

"10-62, eh? Ain't that, ah, breaking and entering?" a man in the sedan asked.

"Yup. And we're already looong gone! The Prinz Oskar is ours now! Ha! That school ain't ever gonna see the tank again!"

_Present Day_

"And? What happened next!" Heather demanded, totally captivated by the story.

Valarie put her hands in her pockets.

"A few days later, police found the flatbed truck. It looked like it was ditched and the Prinz Oskar was gone. Cottontail High School, as you might guess, was very distraught that their A7V was stolen. They issued a fifty-thousand dollar reward to information leading to its return. Police from multiple states searched for the thing, because, well, a stolen tank is a pretty big deal! They had some promising leads but all turned out to be dead ends. The Prinz Oskar had vanished.

"Fifty thousand bucks?" Ashley remarked, reclining in her chair. "Is that reward...still up for grabs?"

"No. They rescinded it after ten years of no progress in the case. Police, private investigators, and not even the FBI could even find a ghost of a trail to follow. Nearly forty years now and the Prinz Oskar has not been seen by anyone. The one and only time a tankery team had one of their vehicles stolen. Heh. Makes the sabotage that happened to us feel...trivial."

"So, what's your theory, Valarie?" Heather asked. "Who do you think did it?"

Valarie shrugged.

"Who knows? The only thing everyone knows for certain that whoever pulled it off was organized."

"Organized, eh?" Ashley said. "I'm betting it was some mafia. You all know how mafias are. Using their ill-gotten gains to buy the rarest things just to have it. And what's rarer than a nearly one-hundred-year-old tank?"

"Possibly," Valarie said. "There are other theories I've read. That it was some school who orchestrated the thing, that some radical group stole it for their own purposes, and, this is a bit outlandish, that the German government was responsible for the theft."

"Hm. Interesting. Do you think the tank is still in the country?" Heather asked her.

"Well, maybe. It's equally likely that the Prinz Oskar is in another country. In Canada, perhaps, or even Mexico.

"What about Europe? or Asia?"

"That's a bit more far fetched...but...you can't really rule that out. It can be anywhere. Just waiting to be found."

Valarie let out a yawn and the rest of her friends followed suit. Taking it as a cue, they all went inside their tent. They didn't know the exact time but felt that the hour had grown late. All nestled together, they fell asleep. Completely at peace.

_Sunday_

The sleep the team had was the best rest any of them ever had. There was something about sleeping outside that deeply impacted the soul, revitalizing it immensely. People were waking up the most refreshed they have even been in their lives. Natalie crawled out of her tent and stretched. Taking a look around, she saw the small glow of a fire in Ray's area. Walking over, she saw that he was preparing for breakfast. Diced potatoes, meat, and other vegetables lied at the ready with some eggs right next to them.

"What does the chef plan on doing next?" she asked him. There was a lightheartedness in her voice.

Ray smiled.

"Just some Hash. Eggs, potatoes, meat, and other leftovers from last night."

"Sounds good. Um, I was wondering if—"

"Yeah, you can have a plate."

"Eh, thanks. But that wasn't what I was going to say," she corrected. She cleared her throat as she then became nervous.

"I was just wondering, um, what you have planned for the rest of today."

Ray put on a thinking face. Then shrugged.

"Not much, really. I do want to take a walk in the forest sometime later.

"Oh, when you do, may I join you?"

Ray did not hesitate to give an answer.

"Of course."

Natalie, pleased, sat down with him, and soon shared breakfast with him along with his crew. The rest of their team prepared their morning meals. As everyone ate, there was still a chill in the air. Those that brought blankets were wrapped up tight in them. Once breakfast was done and dusted, everyone went about doing what they did yesterday; nothing but leisure. As tomorrow was Monday, a school day, they would be leaving the campground by the late afternoon. After making sure all of his cooking equipment have been stowed back into his bags and trash properly thrown away, around noon, Ray decided to take his walk. He went over to Natalie and together they took a stroll into the forest. Surrounded by endless trees, and the melodies of birds, and the little footsteps of lizards, they enjoyed the atmosphere they found themselves in. Of course, as they walked, they talked.

"This getaway is just what everyone needed, don't you think?" she asked him.

"Oh, absolutely. It feels so great to just have no obligations, even for just a weekend."

"MmmHmm. Hey, I've been wondering, you're a junior, right? In the eleventh grade?"

"Yep. I am."

"Ah, cool. So am I. So, when we graduate, it'll be at the same time." she remarked with stifled enthusiasm.

Their hands were just inches from each other. They twitched as they yearned to be held.

"Since we'll be seniors in the next school year, have you been putting thought into what colleges you wanna go to?"

"Ah, kinda. I'm unsure about a lot of things. Whether I want to remain in the state, go to a school out of state, or maybe even one out of the country."

"A foreign school? Wow."

"Heh, maybe a foreign school is a bit too ambitious," Ray remarked with a sigh. "But what I am sure of what I want to major in. Archaeology."

"Archaeology, huh? Interesting. Why not anything with STEM though? Like a job in the IT field or something."

"STEM," Ray said mockingly. "STEM, STEM, STEM. That's what my parents say, my teachers, and my school counselor. It's where the money is and if you work hard enough, you'll get rich through some tech start-up. Meh. Luck has more to do with being rich than anything else."

"Sure, but, catch a lucky break and you'll make bank."

Ray sighed again.

"The highest-paying job in the world isn't worth it if I hate every moment working it. Look, I like computers and other devices, enough. But I don't like them enough to have a career centered around them."

"So, what makes you wanna major in archaeology?"

"Because the ancient past fascinates the hell outta me. Ancient civilizations like the Greeks, Carthaginians, the Gaulic tribes, and Rome...man I just love Rome! I've read about Rome more than any other ancient society. God, it has captured my imagination. Oh, what I'd give to visit the city. To see the Coliseum, the Forum, the triumphal arcs of the Emperors. Just walking in the same city Julius Ceasar would be enough to satisfy me for the rest of my life. Even if it was just an hour.

The passion Ray was displaying charmed Natalie greatly. Her emotions for him grew stronger.

"Oh Ray, I love how passionate you are. I'm sure your parents and others will see and support you wholeheartedly. I know I will."

"Thanks Nat," he said with a blush. "I'm already working on a way to get convince them that archaeology is the way to go. And, in a way, you and the entire team are already helping me out in that regard."

"Huh?" she said, puzzled.

"One of the main reasons I joined this team was a chance, just a chance, that if we do well enough in the tournament that we'll all get athletic scholarships from colleges who want us to play for their own tankery teams. The goal is that my parents would be so happy that I have a scholarship that they won't care what I major in."

"Woah. I never really, uh, thought about getting scholarships because of tankery, but thinking about it, that is a real possibility."

"A possibility that only grows the better we do in the tournament," he said with determination. Then, he looked at her for a moment. "Well, what about you? What do you want to major in?"

Natalie looked down at the ground, deep in thought. She then raised her head and looked at him. "Mmm, anything to do with the ocean really. Maybe a marine biologist, something along those lines.

"Oh, that's cool. I get your interest in the ocean. Less explored than the Moon."

"Precisely. I've dreamed of being in a little submarine diving into the deep depths, seeing creatures that are total freaks. You ever saw a Goblin Shark?"

"No. Are they ugly?"

"Oh, for sure. They got this long snout that extends past their mouth full of crooked teeth. So ugly but oh so cool! Then there are the anglerfish. They make goblin sharks in comparison look like beauty queens. It's just a swimming mouth really. I shiver when I see pictures of those things, but I just can't keep away from looking at them.

"Anglerfish, huh? I remember reading some time ago about how some tankery team goes by that name. Or, was it just the name for one of their tanks? I cannot exactly remember."

"Oh, I can see why. Anglerfish is a cool name. If our callsigns didn't have to be desert-related, I would've gone with that."

They shared smiles. They walked a bit more taking in the sights. After enjoying nature for a good amount of time, they stopped and turned around. It was then that they noticed something alarming.

"Hey, uh, we were walking on a path, right?" Natalie asked.

"Yeah, we are," he said. Then he looked down. "Um...where is it?"

The ground they were walking on was just the untamed forest floor. In the midst of all their talking, they had inadvertently walked off the path.

"Ray."

"Yeah?"

"Where the hell are we?"

* * *

The afternoon had arrived. Though there was some time to enjoy nature, people were already taking down their tents, rolling up sleeping bags, and putting out their fires. Everyone was cleaning up the campground as not only was it courteous, it was mainly because they didn't want a fine. At the IS-3 crew's area, they were just sitting around. Waiting.

"He'll be back any minute now," Ryan said. "Any minute."

"Uh-huh. He's been gone an hour now on that walk," Jeremy added. " I know we still have some time before we have to leave, but, uh, I'd feel better if he was already here.

"I bet he's already on his way back." Cesar remarked.

Elsewhere, the Jagdpanzer IV crew were in a similar situation.

"Where is she? Like, for real. Where did she go?" Jane asked.

"With Ray on his walk. She told us." Barbara told her.

"Yeah, and they aren't back yet?"

"They have time to come back. You guys are worrying about nothing." Miranda said, the loader of the Jagdpanzer IV.

Redwood then made an announcement to the team.

"The bus will be here in an hour to pick us up! Everyone better be ready when it comes!"

The Jagdpanzer crew looked at each other worryingly.

"Um. Okay, we should, tell, uh, tell Mister Redwood." Miranda suggested.

Together, they ran up to Redwood, with Buchanan right next to him.

"Mister Redwood, we may have, uh, a problem here. Ray and Natalie went for a walk about an hour ago and still haven't come back.

"They haven't returned?" Redwood echoed. Concern took root in him. "Which direction did they go in?"

They all pointed toward the woods.

"Alright. We're not leaving without them. I want everyone here."

With a sharp whistle, the entire team was called to him.

"Ray and Natalie are lost in the woods. They can't be far. We will fan out and search for them in the woods, but keep within speaking distance with each other. No one else will be getting lost today. Get to it."

* * *

They were anxious, and fear was slowly building in both of them. Nothing that they saw was familiar to them. They walked in a direction that they had mixed feelings about. Then, Ray just stopped walking and leaned against a tree.

"Ray?"

"I'm not walking anymore. We don't even know if we're heading in the right direction."

Natalie exhaled and leaned on the tree with him.

"Yeah...you're right. If anything, we're just making ourselves more lost"

"Ugh. What a situation to be in."

"Tell me about me."

A gust of wind made them shiver. They saw the shadows of the trees elongating.

"Like hell I'm sleeping on the forest floor." Natalie declared.

"We'll be, uh, we'll be found. I don't think we're too far from camp. Surely, the team is already looking for us."

"Yeah...surely."

They both sat down at the base of the tree.

"We just gotta sit tight and wait."

Together, they sat quietly so that if anything out there was walking, they'd hear it. Natalie brought her knees closer to her chest. She was getting more anxious by the minute and from how quickly Ray was breathing, he was just as anxious as her. But being together prevented panic from taking control of them.

"Are you scared?" Ray asked softly.

"I am." she replied in a similar tone.

Ray moved to gently grab her hand. He held on to her tightly and full of warmth.

"We're going to be okay. We'll be laughing at this come tomorrow."

She chuckled lightly. They were looking into each other's eyes. This look turned into gazing.

"Yeah. We will," she replied. She then took in a breath to psyche herself up. The strong emotion within her was about to breach. "Um...Ray. I, uh, been meaning to say something to you since prom. Well, actually, since before that really."

"What's that?"

She became incredibly nervous, her cheeks red.

"Ah...for a while time I've had these...feelings. When we first meet, I didn't like you for bullshit reasons. I'll own to that. So, when I got to know you better, these feelings of mine grew stronger and more intense. You want to know something? Back at the convention, after seeing you in your room, learning that you were harassed, I went back to my own room. And cried. I cried because someone I cared so much about was hurt. Then our Montana match, I felt sick the entire time because I was terrified about what would happen to you. I care deeply for you, Ray. And that's because I...I..."

She hesitated but then shook herself to regain some courage. She will not tolerate just letting out most of her emotions. She will open the floodgates to get every bit of it out there.

"...I love you. I denied those feelings at first but soon I realized it was true."

Ray looked at her with astonishment. Natalie looked like she just released all of her energy like it was being pent up for months. He squeezed her hand.

"Nat, I'm..." he began but a tear from his eye went down his cheek. Natalie wiped it off. "Nat, I've been in love with you too. I've had this massive crush on you but I was so nervous to do anything about it because I was scared that I misread your signals.

"Well," Natalie said in an affectionate voice. "Allow me to send you one more signal for good measure."

She grabbed him by his collar and pulled him in for a kiss. When their lips melt, an explosion of ecstasy filled their bodies. They had imagined a moment like this but what they thought of in their head was couldn't hold a candle for the real deal. The warmth they felt between was unimaginable. When they stopped kissing, their foreheads rested on each other.

"Mmm, I could use another signal." Ray told her.

They kissed again, longer this time.

"Convinced?" Natalie asked.

Ray stood up and pulled her up with a hand.

"I was convinced by your confession. The kisses were just a nice bonus."

Laughing, they hugged and cradled each other in their arms. From the distance, they heard the indistinct sound of voices. It grabbed their attention and they both looked at the distance.

"...Oh!" Ray exclaimed. "That's the team!"

A member of the team caught sight of them and ran toward them. It turned out to be Valarie.

"Oh, thank god! We found you two." she said with a sigh of relief.

She then noticed that they were hugging each other, sparking a smile.

"Something happened where you two were alone, hmm?"

Ray and Natalie became red with embarrassment.

"You could say that." Natalie answered.

"Well, I'd love to hear the whole story but the bus is waiting for all of us. It's time to go."

"Go, we'll be right behind you." Ray asked.

"Oh, you better be."

Valarie walked off. Ray and Natalie faced each other.

"Do you mind if I sit with you on the bus ride back home?" he asked her all teasingly.

"No, not at all." she replied with a grin.

With hands held, the new couple followed Valarie back to the team. With everyone relieved over their safe return, they all boarded the bus and were driven back home. The weekend trip was one to remember. For Ray and Natalie, they would remember this day for the rest of their lives. For it was when they had their first kiss. The week was over and a new one was upon them. The month of May was not half over and it had more action to give to the team. For the semi-finals were fast approaching!


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The semi-finals draw near as the Mojave Rose Tankery team does what they can do prepare.

_Monday, May 13th 2013_

_Syracuse, New York_

A middle college is an interesting concept. It's a high school on a college campus, which allows students the opportunity to earn college credits while working toward their high school diploma. Basically, it jumpstarts one's college career. Mustang Middle College High School is one such institution, located in the state where the middle college concept was first born. And, like any other school, they have a tankery team. One that has made it all the way to the semi-finals. As one may guess, they were all excited and in a jovial mood. In their garage, a group of girls was walking down the aisles of their parked vehicles. Their uniforms took strong influence from the style of uniforms of U.S infantry from the late nineteenth century. A dark blue long-sleeve overshirt, light blue denim jeans, and boots.

"Our next match is all the way in New Mexico out in the desert wilderness. That, ladies, is our element!" one of the girls exclaimed. "I've looked at the map of the battlefield and let me tell you all, I've never seen a more perfect arena for us! All the wide-open space means our light tanks can run wild."

"And what's better in our opponent," another girl chimed in. "Mojave Rose. From the matches that I've reviewed, I've learned that they commit all their vehicles in matches because they only have twelve tanks. That is below the threshold of how many tanks can be permitted to be deployed by a school in a match. So, what we see is all they have. When it comes to light-tanks, we outnumber them greatly. They only have two. The rest of their vehicles are slower, especially their IS-3 and SU-14."

"We're gonna run circles 'round them." one girl boasted.

"Let's not get all cocky now," a girl said, golden blonde hair tied in a bun. We have the agility advantage on them but not in terms of firepower. But...matches aren't won by who has the biggest gun. But by those who embrace technology."

As if on cue, another girl joined them, holding a device high in the air.

"It's done, Lindsay!" the girl yelled out with excitement. "They've finished it per your specifications!"

"Ah, excellent! The seismometers!"

"Seismometers?" someone asked. "The things that measure earthquakes?"

"MmmHmm. The very ones," Lindsay replied. She was then handed the seismometer. It was the size of a briefcase and felt heavy. "This is just one of many seismometers that I have requested for the team. They have been modified for our purposes."

"Modified in what way?"

Lindsay gave her a sly smile.

"When we have practice, I'll give everyone the full details. For now, just be sure to bring your tablets. You're gonna need them."

_Barstow_

The camping trip was what everyone needed. The felt revitalized and ready to do their tasks for the team with a renewed sense of vigor. At the garage, they were happily performing their routine business, tending to their vehicles. In the garage office, Redwood was sat behind a computer doing what he does best; administration. Buchanan was just by his side, sliding her fingers through his hair.

"No one is bald in your family, huh Martin?"

"Uh, yeah? How did you figure that out."

"Not many men in their forties have such a healthy head of hair like yours. You don't have any bald spots, no receding hairline, and its brown color is as vibrant when I first met you in high school."

Redwood scooted back in his chair and pulled her into his lap. They both laughed softly as they held each other in their arms.

"Oh, we're reminiscing, are we?" he remarked, caressing her cheek. "When I first laid eyes on you all those years ago, I never have seen a more beautiful woman."

She blushed hard.

"Lord...that was so long ago. All the stuff I've gone through...aged me...considerably."

"And despite it all, you've aged like a fine wine," he said, grabbing and squeezing her hand, causing her cheeks to enter the deepest shade of red. They then shared a kiss.

"Mmm. I'm glad the blinds are down. Don't want any of the team to see us all being affectionate and all." Redwood remarked.

"Ha, wouldn't want to seen violating your own PDA rules?" Buchanan joked, getting a chuckle out of him.

"Heh, maybe I'll make them a bit laxer. Just a bit though."

The couple continued their embrace for a few more minutes when then there was a knock at their door.

"Hmm? Whose that?" he wondered.

"Valarie, Ray, and Ashley. I told them to come here when they were finished with their tasks."

"I see. What for?"

Buchanan lifted up a bag from that was sitting by her feet and set it on the table.

"I've got something to give them."

She went to the door and opened it, allowing the three in.

"Hey, what's up?" Valarie said upon walking in.

"Valarie. Ray. Ashley," Buchanan stated, holding the bag. "You three helped me out in major ways. For you two, Valarie and Ray, at the convention, you worked hard to formally object to that proposal that would've stopped me from being your instructor. Things were looking bad, but that was then Ashley came in with the clutch with that memos...which I still don't quite understand how you got them."

Ashley placed her arms behind her back and shot her a grin.

"I've told you, I just found them lying around. The ATA sucks when it comes to information security."

"Sure, sure. Anyway, because of the invaluable help you have given me, I've got you all gifts."

They all looked excited as Buchanan dug into her bag.

"For Ray, a throat microphone. The same model Valarie wears. It too comes from Germany."

She handed it to him, who looked at it with awe.

"Sweet!" he exclaimed as he wore it around his neck. It felt incredibly nice. "Man, this is fantastic! Thanks!"

Pleased at his reception to her gift, Buchanan got out her next gift.

"Now, for Ashley, something for your hands," she said, giving her a small box. Intrigued, Ashley opened the box and let out a gasp.

"Loader's gloves!" she yelled out with delight. She slipped them on immediately. They were a pure white color, made of a material that will protect her hands from handling the 100mm shells of the T-44. Functional and elegant. "Ah! I love them! Thank you!"

There was now just one gift remaining in the bag. Buchanan looked at Valarie who was eager with anticipation.

"Finally, for the captain. Something to see," she said, passing Valarie a case. She opened the case and see withing was a pair of binoculars. Getting it out of its case, she examined it closely. It was black and rubberized, with ridges for better grip. Just by touching it, Valarie felt that this thing was quality. Far more in quality that the pair she already has. Taking a peak, she discovered that the binoculars also had a built-in 2D rangefinder, something that she was incredibly delighted about. She then wondered about its country of origin. She spent a few moments looking around the binoculars when then her eyes sighted a distinct red star.

"Are these Russian binoculars?" she asked.

"oh, that they are," Buchanan explained. "BPOC 10x42 Military Field Binoculars. Superb quality and quite expensive. But worth every dollar. Other binoculars who boast the same features will easily fetch double, triple the price."

The three of them looked extremely pleased over what they have received. Undoubtedly, they will be used heavily in the coming days and weeks.

"I'm utterly grateful for the things you three have done for me. To an extent that I not only just see you, and everyone else on the team, as my students, but also my friends."

They were touched beyond belief.

"We can't ask for a better instructor." Valaire said, a sentiment shared by everyone.

Buchanan breathed in deeply.

"No...you guys are not making me cry again," she said, voice tightening. She breathed in some more and tears were not shed, though they did come awfully close. "Okay...return to your crews. That'll be all."

They made their leave when then Buchanan laid a hand on Ashley's shoulder.

"Hey Ashley, mind staying for just a minute?"

"Um, sure." she replied.

Buchanan turned to Redwood.

"This is gonna be a private chat. Girls things, ya know?"

"Ah, I get it." he said, nodding before leaving the office. Once the door was closed, it was just them in the office. Ashley became uneasy.

"Alright. Ashley. Be honest," Buchanan said to her, arms crossed with a slight smile on her face. "How did you get those memos?"

Ashley placed her hands behind her back and averted her gaze from Buchanan. She was now beginning to sweat.

"I, uh...I told you. I found them lying around." she said with stutters.

Buchanan gave her a look that ate into her.

"Okay...maybe they weren't lying around. Maybe...I found them on a computer."

"A computer huh? Unless there was a computer lab at the convention where everyone could jump on and use, this computer must've been in a place where convention attendees weren't permitted to be at."

"That's a theory."

Another look as given to her.

"A theory...that you're one hundred percent correct on." Ashley admitted.

"So, let me try to piece this all together. You went into the ATA's offices at the convention, got on one of their computers, and presumably had to break into them as they were most likely password protected, find and print out the memos. All the while, you had make-up on to make yourself look older, as a disguise. Did I get the gist of things?"

Ashley gave her a hesitant nod.

"So, basically, you've committed a crime by stealing sensitive information."

She didn't respond, her body ran cold. But that changed when Buchanan began laughing.

"Huh? What's so funny?" Ashley asked.

"What's funny is that the ATA getting their comeuppance, which was way _way_ overdue. What you've done is amazing."

"So, I'm not in trouble?"

"Trouble? Not at all! To put it simply; you saved my ass. Valarie and Ray were doing their damndest, but there was a point where we thought we weren't gonna pull through. Then, you came running in, with papers clutched in your hands."

Once feeling dread, Ashley was now beaming with pride.

"It feels good to finally get recognition on that. Though we can't leave out Emma and Heather. They helped out too in their own ways."

"Oooh, the entire T-44 crew working together? That is just outstanding to hear. You guys...the whole team...I can't be more proud of you all, even if you were all my own children." Buchanan said, choking up a bit on her last words. She came close again to tears but composed herself.

"Your secret is safe with me. Don't you worry about it." she continued.

"Thank you, Miss Buchanan." Ashley said, voice filled with gratitude. She turned to leave the office. When her hand was on the doorknob, Buchanan spoke with her a bit more.

"Oh, and Ashley?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Don't put yourself at that much risk again, okay?"

"I promise. I won't"

_That Evening_

With another meeting done, Redwood and Buchanan returned home. They felt complete after today, more so than usual. The hour was growing late but their day was not yet finished yet. As resting a bit on the couch together, Redwood stood up.

"Oh...I wanted to lean against you more." Buchanan playfully complained.

"I know, me too, but I got something for you. Wait here a moment."

He walked to the next room as Buchanan remained sitting on the couch, curious. When he returned with his hands behind his back.

"When digging up for the Super Pershing's records, we found a familiar face." he explained, revealing to her what he had in his hands. A picture of her when she was a teenager, in a glass frame. Her face lit up.

"Geez. Look at me. In that windbreaker," she remarked, laughing a little. "I look like a totally different person."

"Looking in that photo, I see the same person that I am fiercely in love with today as I was then."

Twice now today has Redwood made her blush. She loved it so much. Then her eyes popped as she remembered something.

"Oh! Wait here. I got something for you too." she said, setting the picture down on the table.

Rushing off, she went to another room and too returned with arms behind her back.

"Funnily enough, another familiar face was found during the search for those records," she said, showing him what was in her hands.

"That's...me," he noted. "Well, look at you," he continued, pointing at the picture of his younger self. "Still keeping the same style of glasses."

"You look so cute and handsome in that photo. Two qualities that continue to shine as brightly as when I first saw you."

Now it was his turn to let out a blush.

"I love you, Gabby."

"I love you too."

They entered into an embrace, kissing and cuddling each other, getting lost in the strong emotions they feel toward each other. After a brief, yet intense, period of passion, they held hands as they walked toward the bedroom. There, they readied to go to sleep. On either side of their bed were nightstands, where the photos were placed. On Redwood's nightstand was Buchanan's picture, on her's was his. This way, no matter which way they faced, the first thing they would see when they waked up would be each other. Lying in bed, the two drifted to sleep. At least, Redwood appeared to be asleep. He waited for some time to be totally confident that Buchanan was sound asleep. He then gently crawled out of bed and quietly opened a nearby drawer. Returning to her, he picked up her right hand with absolute grace to ensure that he didn't wake her. With sewing tape, he measured her ring finger. This was all part of something that he has been planning for some time now. Planning to ask her a special question.

_Saturday_

The semi-finals were one week from today and the team was getting ready for it. With the battlefield being in New Mexico, a desert landscape is certain. Thankfully, living and practicing in the Mojave made the team experienced in the terrain. Though, even with that, they will not make assumptions. Anything could happen during the upcoming match that could very well throw them in a loop. So, for practice today, they are doing something unusual. Something that Ray had suggested a while ago, which Valarie agreed with wholeheartedly. Our in the wilderness, the team were in the standard V-formation with the T-44, as always, forming the tip. Out of the commander's hatch though, was not Valarie, but Ashley.

"Ah! This is a nice change of pace!" she exclaimed.

Within the turret, Valarie had taken up the role of the gunner with Emma as the loader. Heather, though, insisted that she remain the driver, at least for now.

"Valarie, these shells are far heavier than I thought. How does Ashley reload shell after shell?"

"She works out more than we do. She doesn't drink those protein shakes for flavor, you know."

"Ha. Guess not. Anyway, how's being in the gunner's seat?"

"Eh, reading about the T-44 enough makes it so I know the fundamentals in ranging the gun and firing a shot," she said, peering into the gun sight. Her hands were on the turret controls. "Speaking of firing, we oughta be close to Crater Hill by now."

"Yes! We just arrived!" Ashley yelled out. All of the team halted at 1500 meters from the hill, something that they could do by instinct now. Now stopped, Valarie activated her radio.

"All vehicles, prepare to fire."

Orders received, Emma went and grabbed a round from the rack. Struggling, she slid the round into the breech.

"God," she said with labored breathing. "Ready!"

Valarie went back to the sight and ranged the hill. She knew it was 1500 meters away, but she had to make the gun come to the same conclusion. The controls were adjusted constantly and she had to check her work again and again. It was a little frustrating but she soon ranged the target to her satisfaction. There was only one way to know if she was right. She clicked on the radio.

"Commence firing."

At once, the air exploded as thirteen guns of various calibers erupted simultaneously. Dust and sand were kicked into the air, creating a cloud of debris at where the guns fired. Vehicles such as the IS-3, Super Pershing, and SU-14, with there powerful guns, generated enough energy that tanks next to them to shake. Once everything quieted down, Emma spoke with Valarie.

"Sooo, what's the point of this again?"

"To be the jack of all trades. In the event any of us becomes, ah, incapacitated in some way, then their role can be easily taken over until they are ready to assume their duties."

"Incapacitated? Like, being unconscious?" Emma asked worryingly.

"Well, yes. That is a risk in this sport that you can't really fully prevent. But its effects can be heavily mitigated. By training in all the roles of a tank, not just one, then someone being made unconsciousness is less of an impact on our fighting effectiveness.

"Mmm. I get it. Still, I'd absolutely hate to see you or anyone else get unconscious. The thought terrifies me enough."

Valarie caressed her cheek as she squeezed her hand.

"I know. It scares me too," she said softly. Their foreheads were touching. "It's just a risk that we all have to accept."

After sharing a tender moment, Valarie tugged on Ashley's uniform to get her attention. She ducked down.

"How'd the team too accuracy-wise?" Valarie asked.

"Honestly, pretty good. Most hit the hill and those that missed were still pretty close."

"That is good," Valarie remarked. "This is going much better than I imagined."

In every vehicle in the team, each crew has swapped roles with each other. it was not only extremely fun, but also an immense learning experience. It felt like they were doing practice for the first time, bringing back some pleasant memories. While it was obvious no one was going to be immediately perfect doing the roles of their friends, but the important thing was to become familiar with their basics so that should the need arise, they can take over. For all of practice, this is what they have done. Many more practices will be needed to that each crew member can truly become a jack-of-all-trade, still, today was a great start, and tiring as well as doing new things tend to do. As the day came to a close, the team was dismissed and went home. This was one of the more productive practices they had yet.

_Monday_

The school day was over and the team met again as usual. In addition to the normal activities, the team's commanders were to convene in Room 34 for their meeting. The purpose was known by all, far before they arrived. The match. Inside, Valarie and Ray prepared for the meeting.

"So, what's in store for us in New Mexico?" he asked her.

"Well, it's flat-ish. It's hilly here and there with some small mountains dotted across. There are also some rivers, where we'll see the most green. Other than those areas, it's a desert through and through."

"Desert, huh. Well, good thing we know how to fight in deserts. I hope there won't be any sudden sandstorms this time around."

She chuckled.

"No, no sandstorms. I've checked the weather. There's not gonna be any wind at all. Which sucks, kinda, because it's going to be hot."

"Hot? We live in California, the Mojave no less. When isn't it hot over here? We're used to it, Valarie."

"Ha. Good point."

"Who are we facing, by the way?"

"Mustang Middle College High School. They're from New York."

"Ah, Yankees. What do we know about them?"

"From the research I've done, they're centered around using light tanks. Some photos I've found show that they have BT-7s, Panzer IIs, M24 Chaffess. But I don't know their entire roster."

"Mmm, but I bet they know ours."

"What makes you say that?"

"Remember after our first match when that reporter took all our pictures with our tanks?"

"Oh...right."

"Yeah, and all those photos are in the article he wrote which is available online. Anyone who is interested in, looking good enough, will find that article and learn about the tanks we have."

"Sure, but we've made additions since then."

"True, but they can just look up the matches we participate in because the ATA streams every match they do. And, if people really wanted to, they could just come to our matches to learn what we have. Can you imagine that? Some person coming to each and every one of our matches?

"Or to see one person." Valarie mused.

"Well, that's weird and a bit stalkerish."

"Yeah...anyway, it's a given that Mustang pretty much knows our entire roster, save for the Super Pershing."

"Super Pershing," Ray echoed. "A tank that's not exactly a speedster going against tanks might as well be formula one cars."

"Yes, they have the speed advantage on us, that's for sure."

"So, with that in mind, I hope whatever plan you've made takes that into account."

"Obviously, yes."

The commanders arrived at the room and take their seats, ready.

"Hello everyone," Valarie greeted. "As you all know, our match is later this week. We're going against Mustang Middle College High School, a school that has a reputation for heavily using light tanks. When it comes to maneuverability, they have the edge."

"Well, that's comforting," Jacqueline remarked. "What do we do when their little tanks zip across the battlefield being annoying little brats?"

"What we need to do is to stick together. They're faster, but we have the scarier guns. I predict they will try to get us separated because it'll be easier to attack. If anyone of you gets isolated, their light tanks will be like a pack of hyenas descending on a lone antelope. They'll attack, firing from all possible directions until you stop moving. That's just not pleasant, huh?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Precisely," she continued. "That is why it's crucial that we travel together. No one will be driving alone, okay? Everyone will have, at least, a partner. Furthermore, as the enemy is faster than us, it wouldn't be smart to be on the offensive. They'll just outrun us till we run out of fuel. Therefore, again, we'll be on the defensive."

Valarie turned her attention to the large map that was posted on the whiteboard. With a wooden stick, she pointed at a feature on the map.

"Here, is a large plateau, which I'm calling Point 'Zion', that's fifteen miles from our starting position. Upon the start of the match, we will all drive for it and take up a defensive position. They will have to come to us if they want to dig us outta there. Climbing up the slopes of the plateau will slow them down enough to make them easy targets."

"Good stuff, but, since they have light tanks, what if they intercept us before we make it to the 'Zion'?" Marielle questioned.

"There's a chance of that happening but we won't be taking the obvious path there. Instead, we'll take a longer route that is flanked by a river on one side, and hills on the other. Ideally, it will hide our advance to 'Zion'."

The team's commanders closely looked at the map and pondered about what Valaire has said to them. The strategy shared with them gave them confidence, but they didn't allow themselves to be overconfident. In a match, victory or defeat is never certain, with destruction the only thing ever assured. Though Valarie was satisfied with the strategy she has crafted, in the back of her mind, there was this constant thought that there was something more that she could do to improve upon it. But, if she did sit down to modify her plan, she was certain that this nagging thought would continue to provoke her, incessantly gnawing at her thoughts. It wasn't the first time she felt this way. This feeling always cropped up in the week leading up to a match so she wasn't too worked up by it. Situations have come up unexpectedly before and the team has adapted to overcome. As the military axiom goes; no plan survives contact with the enemy.


	37. Mojave Rose v. Mustang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Semi-Finals of the American Nationals begin!

_Saturday, May 25th 2013_

_Outskirts of Las Vegas, New Mexico_

Arid hills. Soft sand. A hot sun. And in the middle of it all were a collection of large tents and countless spectators mingling about, waiting for the semi-finals of the American national tankery tournament to begin. The largest of these tents was where the spectators would sit and watch the match as it played out, on huge television screens mounted on the backs of flatbed trucks. Elsewhere were smaller tents hosting various things to cater to people as they wait and watch. Food and drink stands, shops to sell souvenirs and other mementos, and of course, restrooms. With some time to kill before the match officially begins, two girls decide to walk around the area. The temperature was forecasted to reach the mid-nineties, and with no wind and the total absence of humidity, it was going to be a very dry heat. With the temperature rising by the minute, the only respite from the weather for the spectators was the shade from the tents and ice-cold drinks. For two girls wandering about the spectator's area, they elected to do the latter. Both were wearing sun hats, providing excellent shielding from the sun. In one of the stands, they got some cool milkshakes and enjoyed them sat at tables underneath some shade.

"To think that I nearly wore my school uniform for the match. That would've_ sucked_." Alice remarked.

"No kidding, you would've swum in your own sweat. Though, considering the weather, sweating is rather unavoidable," Madison replied, taking a sip of her drink. Though it was not yet summer, they were wearing summer dresses. Alice went for a sleeveless pale blue dress with straps, with buttons going down its front. Madison too sported a sleeveless dress, with white and yellow colors, with a floral pattern. Fashionable and breathable. "We're already feeling the heat, I cannot even begin to imagine how it'll feel in those tanks of theirs."

"Furnaces. No doubt. Those poor girls."

"Ah, ah, ah," Madison said, waving her finger. "They do have some boys on their team. Let's not forget about them."

"Sorry. I just don't know about the composition of their team as much as you do," Alice then leaned closer and lowered her voice. "I've told you before how some people at school think you have this obsession with Mojave Rose. Especially with their tankery team's captain."

"You have," Madison responded in an annoyed tone, eyes looking down toward the table. "They don't know what we know."

"Then why not let them in the loop? It'll put down all the rumors and leave us both in peace. I'm tired of hearing people call you a stalker."

Madison let out a frustrated sigh.

"I know. I hate it. So. Much. But it won't be forever. Once June comes, all the gossip will be gone."

"But why wait till June?"

"Because if I tell people what we know, inevitably, so will the school's administration. If they find out, my offer for the school who wins the tournament is _dead_. No way in fucking hell will I allow that to happen." she said with anger.

"Cool it, Madison. Breathe." Alice calmed, laying a hand on her shoulder and rubbing it

"Sorry...but you know just how much it means to me for everything to go well. I don't want all my efforts to be for nothing. It would crush me."

"I do, I do," Alice comforted. The two drank their milkshakes in a tranquil silence for a minute. "I'm curious, did you manage to see her?"

"Yes. In full uniform. She was with this tall guy that I can only assume is her co-captain. Talking about the upcoming match probably."

"How did you feel when she saw her?"

"How can I even start?" Madison exclaimed. "Like, just seeing her picture in that news article from last year makes me overjoyed. To see her in person...well...it's a happiness that you'd have to feel to understand."

"Hmm, it looks like your happiness is infectious," Alice said with a smile. "June can't come fast enough."

"Oh, no it can't."

They enjoyed their drinks. Behind them was a food stall and the workers there began cooking something. Its vapors traveling and soon reaching them. Upon smelling it, Madison's nose became slightly irritated and was beginning to get stuffy.

"Ugh, someone is cooking crab around here." she complained.

Alice smelled the air and moaned in delight.

"Mmmm, crab. With a cajun seasoning."

"Oh, rub it in, why don't you? You're not the one with the crab allergy."

"I know you're allergic to crab. I've known that for the entire time we've known each other," Alice said. She then stood up. "Thankfully it's very mild, but still, let's get out of here for some fresh air, yeah?"

Madison stood up from the table as well.

"The farther we get away from the crab, the better."

Elsewhere in the area, in a private tent, Mustang Middle College's tankery team is within. Lindsay, the team's captain, was holding a meeting with the team's commanders.

"Okay, just to confirm, everyone here has their tablets, correct?" she asked them.

They all nodded.

"Good! I hope they're all fully charged 'cause they're gonna be used a lot today. Now, there is an hour till we have to go to our starting area so I'm going over our strategy once more," Lindsay said. She unfolded a map and laid it on a table. They were 'X's' placed in carefully-thought over positions. "At each marking is where a seismometer will be placed. Each tank that has the device will know where to put them. As soon as the match begins, these tanks will head straight for them. With their superior speed, they'll arrive and deploy the seismometers before Mojave Rose will realize what is going on. Remember, these devices have been modified with Mojave Rose's tanks in mind. They are way heavier than ours. So, the seismometers will detect the movements of their tanks and because we placed them strategically, it will give us their location, data that will be transmitted to our tablets as blips. The sooner our seismometers are deployed, the sooner we know their every move."

All the commanders looked incredibly eager to execute their plan. One, though, had a question. She rose her hand

"I've been wondering, we have heavier tanks that will be in the match, so how will we know that what we see on the screen is the enemy or a friend?"

"Our heavier tanks will be held in reserve at two locations, here and there," Lindsay explained, pointing to two places on the map. "Once they arrive at those locations, they have explicit orders not to move so that they won't trigger the devices. Only I can order them to move should the need arise. Hopefully, we won't need to use them. I am confident that our light tanks can win the day!"

At the opposite end of the area, in another private tent, the Mojave Rose tankery was enjoying the shade. Their vehicles were nearby, just outside the tent. All fueled up and ready for battle. Valarie was standing in the middle of the tent, looking at the team sitting and chatting on the benches, lost in conversation. Dangling around her neck was the new binoculars that Buchanan had gifted her. She noticed when some of the team would glance at her binoculars and put on a face of awe, mixed with a tinge of jealously. Though the latter emotion was quickly put down. It made sense for the captain of the team to have the best equipment available to her as, by extension, made the team as a whole more effective. She stood alone but not for long. Ray joined her.

"Do you still get nervous right before matches start?" he asked her.

"Not as much as our first match, when we only had weeks to get ready when we thought we'd get months. It was a whirlwind of activity, but we pulled it off. Now, we're in the semi-finals. Wow. It only feels like yesterday when I smacked my head against that road sign when I was staring at your IS-3."

He laughed and playfully tapped his finger on her forehead.

"It was a loud crash. Honestly, it's amazing you only got a bruise from all that."

She grinned from ear to ear.

"And a nasty headache. Hmm. Time can really fly, huh? Like a supersonic jet."

"You can say that again. Anyway, how do you feel about our odds for the match?"

She put on a pondering face, head tilted toward the ground. A long moment of silence transpired. She then looked back at him.

"Overconfidence is the biggest thing I fear doing, not only in tankery matches but in practically anything I do. I never go into things thinking that I will for sure succeed. One of the worst feelings in the world is failing at something when you were fully convinced you'd do great in. You like history, Ray, I bet some military general has learned this lesson the hard way."

He chuckled, recoiling back as he did.

"Oh, Val, I can talk your ear off about the battles of the Trebia, Lake Trasimene, and Cannae...Lord...Cannae...that's a rough one."

"Give me the condensed version then."

"Oh! Okay!" Ray said all excited. He cleared his throat. "Let me set the scene. It's the 2nd Century BCE and Carthaginian general Hannibal Barca has done the unthinkable and crossed his army over the Alps, losing nearly thirty thousand of his men in the process. Still, he leads his army into Italy, where the Roman Republic sends her armies to repel his invasion. The first major engagement at the Trebia was a resounding Roman defeat due to the recklessness of the Roman general. His actions led to the deaths of thirty-thousand soldiers. The Romans raise another army only for that one to be crushed at Lake Trasimene, in which Hannibal conducts the largest ambush in world history. Gripped in sheer panic, the Romans field yet another army against Hannibal and the two armies clash at Cannae. Here, the Romans outnumber Hannibal, which made them overconfident. Their actions resulted in the Roman army being surrounded and butchered to the last man."

"Ray...you'd make a good lecturer at a college."

He blushed and glanced away momentarily.

"Heh, thank you. Your aversion to hubris is something the Romans should've had during those battles. If you were in command, I bet they wouldn't be defeats."

"Oh, please," Valarie said with a bewildered laugh. "I'm just a tankery captain. I don't think its really fair to compare my role to a military general, especially one like, ah, Hannibal or Caesar."

"Actually, I do think it's fair. There is a similarity you have with those generals and more like them."

"Oh?"

"The talent of command."

Valarie was overwhelmed with an intense feeling of gratitude. His compliment came from a genuine place, and she could feel it sink deep into her soul. She trembled a bit, throat tightening, and tears were being shed. She looked right into his eyes and hugged him. A sight that drew curious stares from some on the team who happened to look at their direction, with Natalie and Emma, especially, looking on with great intrigue.

"Thank you, Ray. That's one hell of a compliment."

"And you're one hell of a captain and a friend."

The loudspeakers outside clicked on, delivering a message that caught everyone's attention.

"Athletes! Crew your vehicles and proceed to the starting area! Match beings in thirty minutes!

Valarie and Ray turned and together faced the team. With her hand raised high in the air, she gave them their orders.

"Mount up! It's time to roll out!"

The team moved quickly from their seats and headed outside for their tanks. Getting in and out of their vehicles has become second nature, so in no time at was everyone in their positions and the engines ignited. At both ends of the spectator's area, the two teams drove in different directions toward their designated starting areas. All the tents were soon out of view as the desolation of the New Mexico desert now dominated the landscape. The sun was high in the sky, and so was the temperature. The interior of all the vehicles was getting too warm for comfort but, thanks to Buchanan's past experience, has taught them all how to install rudimentary air conditioning systems in their tanks, providing some blissful relief. Also inside their machines were canteens of water and ice packs, stored in coolers to keep their cool temperature for as long as possible. Sunscreen was applied generously by everyone, and for those who brought them, brought sunglasses. All the amenities needed to make a hot day bearable, so that they can focus on the task at hand. They arrived at the starting area in good time as they had some minutes before the action would formally begin.

"Ashley," Valarie said. "Did you happen to walk by the other team's tent to see what tanks they are fielding against us?"

"I did just happen to walk by their tent and caught an eyeful," she replied. "Just a complete row of light tanks. But that wasn't all of 'em. I listened in to one of their conversations. They said something about holding their heavies in reserve."

"Heaves?" Valarie echoed. "Man, for a school that loves light tanks, 'heavies' could mean anything, from Panthers to Jagdtigers!" she exclaimed. She then got quiet, her face now thinking, hand stroking her chin. "Hmm. Heavies in reserve. That means they are not driving around, they'll be sitting tight somewhere, only moving when ordered."

"If they are going to stay in one place, " Ashley said. "Why not do a little search-and-destroy mission?"

Valarie considered her suggestion, her face putting on various expressions.

"Ah, maybe. Once we get to 'Zion', we'll see where we go from there."

The official in their starting area has been keeping a close eye on her watch. She then nodded and rose the starting pistol in her hand high in the air, firing it. Instantly, Valarie got on the radio.

"Panzer Vor!"

* * *

Darting across the desert at blistering speeds, a pack of BT-7s was making rapid progress toward their assigned destinations. They were together for some time, but one by one, they splintered off. They and other tanks on their team had a special objective to accomplish, one they had to finish as soon as possible. At each of the locations they arrived at, one of the crew members climbed out of the tank with a briefcase-sized device. She set in securely in the sand and turned on its battery power. With a satisfied smile, she returned to her tank and drove away. All over the battlefield were these seismometers being deployed. In her M24 Chaffee, Lindsay watched her tablet as more of the devices came online and showed up on the screen. From her radio, a voice appeared.

"Lindsay, we've just put down the last one."

"Excellent. Any of you get spotted?"

"Negative. Deployment went flawlessly."

With the delightful news received, Lindsay returned to her tablet. The program running on it managed the seismometers. With all of them ready, with the press of her finger, they were all simultaneously activated and already were results being shown on her sets. A collection of blips were moving as one, heading in a particular direction.

"There you are. Every single one of you."

She looked at the screen for several more moments for further analysis. She determined what they were doing.

"That plateau. If they make it there, with all their thick armor and heavy firepower, it will make that place a fortress," She then activated her radio.

"All vehicles, sans the reserve force, make haste to the south-west. It is paramount that we intercept them before they make it to the plateau. Check your tablets often for live-updates of the enemy's position.

* * *

The path that Valarie had selected for the team to follow to go to Point 'Zion' was one that seemed secure. To their right were hills, tall enough to hide the dust being kicked up by them. To their left was a river, whose water was giving life to trees, grass, and other plant life on either side of the river. The vegetation was dense enough to hide them from anyone on the other side of the body of water, though not too dense that it would make a river crossing impossibly should it be necessary. The presence of the river was a delight, as not only was it a beautiful sight to seen lively green amid all the dull colors of the desert, but its water cooled the air around them. The path they drove on was nice and wide, though not wide enough to properly drive in a V-formation. Instead, they drove in columns, with the T-44, as always, taking point. Behind them were the other medium tanks, with the VK serving as the team's flag tank for the match. The only two light vehicles, the Stuart and the Puma were in the middle of the column with the SU-14, chugging along. The tank destroyers were the most vulnerable during this drive. Lacking a turret, should they come under attack, they will take the longest to respond. Behind everyone was the IS-3 and Super Pershing, forming the rear guard. Though the drive thus far was uneventful, all the commanders were alert. Their heads were out of their hatches, scanning their immediate areas.

"Nothing so far. That's good," Valarie remarked. She reviewed her map. "We still got a ways to go till Point 'Zion'. It's half an hour away."

They continued for another hundred meters or so when her ear picked up the noises of several engines. Engine sounds that no tank on her team produced.

"Damn," she muttered. "That's them."

"But do they know we're here or just driving by?" Marielle wondered.

The ground shook as there was a sudden explosion that was followed by a cascade of rock, sand, and desert vegetation crashing down onto the path ahead of them, blocking them from progressing any further.

"Well, that answers that!" Marielle remarked. "So much for 'Zion', what now?"

On the hills ahead of them, a pack of light tanks appeared. Several BT-7s and M24 Chaffees. One of these BT-7s was responsible for the blocking of their path for it was armed with a 76.2mm howitzer. They moved forward enough to get their guns low enough and let loose a volley of fire. Before Mojave Rose could even respond, they had already retreated out of view. No casualties but it gave them a taste of things to come.

"Oh, I can tell, they're going to be annoying as hell." Natalie commented.

Valarie again reviewed her map. Fortunately, the path they were driving on wasn't one-way. At their location, it did fork off into another direction. With it being the only viable option at her disposal, she didn't have a choice but to go down it.

"Okay, listen up," she commanded over the radio. "We're taking this other path on the left. The enemy will follow so aim your guns at the tops of the hills. That'll scare them and if you have a shot then take it. _Juniper_ and _Jackalope_, pay special attention to the rear. Some may drive down the hill to flank us."

With affirmatives reviewed, the new plan was enacted. The team drove onto the new road where now hills were now both on their sides. Their guns were aimed at their tops, where frequently, the enemy would crest over and take pot shots. They moved too quickly, darting backward the moment a gun sight was laid on them. For several minutes, this harassment persisted. The enemy light tanks wanted to get a shot on Mojave Rose's more lightly-armored vehicles, chiefly the SU-14, but they only had a few short seconds to get a shot off before backing off. If a gun happened to be looking in their direction, that totally prevented them from firing. For now, they were a nuisance. Behind the column, a few BT-7s drove down the hill and made their way to their rear.

"Alright! We're behind them. Once around this corner, we'll do some damage!" one BT-7 commander exclaimed, racing forward.

"No, wait for the rest of the team! We'll all push together!" another warned but to no avail. She watched as the BT-7 turned to the corner where it was instantly obliterated. A shot by the IS-3 has sent the little tank back, scraping against the ground where it then stopped, white flag popping on the top of its turret. She sighed. "They've drawn first blood. Everyone stand-by. Once we all link up, we'll overwhelm their rear."

The Super Pershing and the IS-3, the rear guard, had turned their turrets one-hundred eighty degrees. Though their rear armor was much weaker than their front, the mere presence of their guns was enough of a deterrent to the enemy. For the time being, at least, until Mustang has accumulated enough numbers. As the Mojave Rose team drove, they noticed that the hit-and-run attacks have ceased for the time being. A development that made Valarie's eyes squint with curiosity.

"Hmm. They pulled back. What are they up to?" she mused. The dirt path they were on was beginning to narrow, the hills on their sides drawing closer, and getting steeper. At its narrowest, only two vehicles at a time driving right next to each other could make it to the other side where the path begins to widen up again. "By twos!" she ordered. "Two at a time and quickly to the other side!"

Tanks crossed the narrow opening as fast as they could, with doing it carefully a low priority. Vehicles scrapped against each other and the rocks though not one person complained as there was a sense of urgency in what they were doing. Scrapping aside, almost all the team crossed over in peace when then the combined sound of numerous engines reverberated throughout the hills. Ray, being one of the last people to have yet crossed, turned to look behind him.

"Well, that sound likes most of 'em," he declared. He looked toward the other tank that hasn't crossed either, the Super Pershing. "Because of how narrow the path is, if we cross, we won't be able to turn our guns toward the enemy."

"That'd be, uh, that'd be a problem." Louise noted.

"A problem with a solution," he said, a smile growing. He then squeezed to activate his radio around his neck, a feeling that he loved. "_Oasis_, permission to conduct a delaying action?"

"Delaying action? I'm not comfortable with that, Ray," Valarie replied. "It's too risky."

"You're just have to gonna trust me and _Jackalope_ here. We'll buy you time to find a new defensive position."

She thought for several long moments. She was still uncomfortable with his plan but soon acquired.

"Alright," she said hesitantly. "But you two_ better_ join us later."

"Copy that."

With that, Ray turned to Louise.

"Turn your vehicle so that its front is facing the approaching enemies. We're reversing into the narrow pass, forming a wall to stop them as long as we can. Copy?"

Louise shot him a grin.

"Copy!"

The IS-3 and Super Pershing turned in place and reversed into the pass. As a result of their large size, they filled the gap utterly. The team behind them drove on and were soon out of view. Approaching the two heavy tanks, one of the Panzer II commanders looked at her tablet. She put her hand on her chin to scratch it.

"Interesting," she remarked. "Two of their vehicles have stopped while the rest move on."

"Mechanical failure maybe?" one commander suggested.

"Happening to two vehicles at the same time? Unlikely. An intentional act no doubt. Move with caution."

The enemy tanks drove on and soon reached the narrow pass. There, they saw the Super Pershing and IS-3, thick armor and cannons pointed at them. Yet they did not fire upon them, just tracked their movements with their turrets. Mustang's vehicles pressed on, with numerous vehicles just 200 meters from Mojave Rose's heavies. The two groups were in a stand-off. The light tanks did not have the firepower to even hope to penetrate the fronts of an IS-3 and Super Pershing, whereas, for Ray and Louise, keeping them in front of them was critical as those tanks, though low on the firepower, do have enough penetration to knock them out with a close-range shot at their rears. So, Ray chose this engagement carefully where it was near-impossible for them to be flanked.

"Ugh. We gotta go around." one Chaffee commander suggested.

"It'll take a while. All that time going around gives the rest of Mojave Rose more time to widen the distance."

"In the interest of speed, then, the option is to go forward." Lindsay said.

The rest of Mustang's commanders felt unsure.

"We'll just scratch the paint on those things!" one remarked.

"The front hulls of the Super Pershing and IS-3 are nice and sloped," Lindsay said in an analytical tone. "And since they are on a lower elevation than us, well, why shoot when we can just _drive_ over them?" She cracked her knuckles and held on firmly on a handhold. "Prepare to charge!"

Out of his hatch, Ray watched as Mustang's light tanks were readying themselves for something as they formed up. With the situation he was in, he couldn't help but make a certain comparison.

"Like the Hot Gates." he remarked.

"Say again?" Louise asked, confused.

"Thermopylae."

"Therm-what?"

"The Spartans."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "That one battle with only like three-hundred soldiers?"

"Exactly! But, ah, there were more than three-hundred soldiers. You see, King Leonidas led a coalition Greek Army—"

The mass of metal ahead of them then raced forward as one. Ray glanced toward Louise.

"Ah, another time then! Bunker down and hold the line!"

Both commanders ducked into their tanks and closed their hatches tightly. From their scopes, they saw as the light tanks closed the distance. Each tank let loose a shot, eliminating two tanks from play, yet with their lengthy reloads, didn't manage to fire another round when the lead light tanks smashed into them. At this close range, they couldn't fire upon the tanks scraping against their hull. Behind those light tanks, other vehicles pushed on them, and incrementally, the forward light tanks were starting to 'climb' the heavier tanks. Ray and Louise instantly figured out what they were trying to do and ordered their drivers to advance. Thick black exhaust emanated from every machine as their engines strained.

"No, no you don't!" Ray yelled. "Not...one of you will be driving over our tank! No way!"

Using their immense weights, the IS-3 and Super Pershing drove forward at a snail's pace but moved with enough space to imbalance the tanks attempting to 'climb' over them, causing them to sway and lurch backward. The barrels of their guns were simply too long to shoot them off, but the tanks farther away were not as lucky. With rounds in their chambers, they fired into the group, taking out two more light tanks. With their elimination, it not only meant that Mustang had two fewer tanks providing pushing power but any tanks behind those eliminated vehicles now had to push through what was essentially now boulders. Two minutes into this attack and Mustang were enduring more casualties than they expected. The IS-3 and Super Pershing continued to move forward, the 'climbing' tanks now shaken off. They were still too close to fire upon, but they were at their mercy as the heavier tanks pushed them with ease. Now, with the reality of the situation dawning on her, Lindsay gave the order to withdraw.

"Okay. This isn't going well. At all, actually. Everyone get outta here! Pop smoke!"

At once, the remaining light tanks loaded smoke shells and fired them in a volley right at the two heavies, blanketing them in smoke. The IS-3 and Super Pershing shot blindly but when the smoke cleared, they saw that none of their shot found their marks. Still, they felt proud.

"Amazing! We held the line!" Louise exclaimed with glee.

"Yeah we did! We bought the rest of the team time and took out six of 'em in the process!"

The sound of Mustang's engines grew faint but did not totally disappear.

"Let's move fast, follow the path, and rejoin with the team. Hopefully, they've found a new defensive position."

* * *

"It's not "Zion' but this'll do." Valarie remarked.

After some time driving, the team has found a suitable position to fortify. An elevated hill, not as huge as the plateau 'Zion' was, but big enough for their purposes. Most of their tanks had their guns pointing in the direction they came from. At the bottom of the hill was a river that they had to ford. Here they waited. Those not on the hill were on the opposite side. Here, the Sherman Jumbo and Cromwell were covering the rear. Though they would vastly prefer to be on the hill as that was where the action will happen, they understood it was a job that needed to be done.

"What a nice view of the barren desert," Haley sarcastically commented. "I get this is something to be done, but honestly, what are the chances anyone on the other team will come our way?"

"We have to be ready for every conceivable possibility," Sage reminded. "I want to be up there too, but we're providing comfort for the rest of the team 'cause their flanks are secure."

"I guess so."

Back on top of the hill, Valarie watched down below. The kicking up of dust caught her attention.

"Something is coming. Fire on my order"

All the guns of the team moved toward the commotion. The river below them hosted thick vegetation, the biggest ones being trees. This density of plant life obscured the identities of those kicking up the dust. When the team saw plants moving, they all trained their sights on that location. Out of the brush revealed to be familiar faces. The IS-3 and Super Pershing have made it back from their delaying action, much to Valarie's relief.

"Good, good, good. They've made it back intact. Ray's plan has gone fantastically."

The two tanks crossed the river and slowly made their way up the hill, with the IS-3 taking position next to the T-44. Ray popped up from his hatch.

"We've bought you time and it looks like you've used it wisely. This is a good spot, Val."

"Mmmhmm," she responded, grinning. "It's more or less our original plan. How did it go with the delaying action?"

"Took out six of them. Six less of their racers zipping around."

"Nicely done. Both of you."

"Now, we just sight tight?"

"Yep. Let them come to us."

* * *

Regrouping at another position, Lindsay took stock of the situation.

"Hmm. Not good. Not terrible," she reported. She looked at her tablet and analyzed it. "They've congregated at a hill with a river below them. Since it's not as steep as that plateau they were going for, it gives us more options." She let out a devious chuckle. "Ah, I know our next course of action now." The radio was clicked on. "Reserve group 'A', advance to Mojave Rose's location. Go behind them. We'll approach from their front to draw their fire."

"Roger that, on our way!"

Watching her screen, Lindsay saw a collection of new blips appearing and moving, drawing a smile.

"Alright, Dust Devils, time to give you guys one hell of a new experience."

* * *

They were alert and stationary. The weather grew hotter. Everyone in their tanks was sweating, wiping off the moisture on their faces with the sleeves of their uniforms and drinking their cold water every other moment. The fact there was no wind at all was unnerving in a way. Other than the sounds of their engines, the area felt far too silent to them. Looking up, the sun was the only object in the sky. Not one cloud. Not even the solitary bird soaring in the air. Just the sun and the endless expanse that is the pale blue sky. In the T-44, Valarie had her face glued to her periscope, watching the river below. She felt a tug on her arm as Emma pulled her away. She presented a canteen of water to her.

"No thanks, I'm not thirsty."

"Are you?" Emma questioned. "You haven't taken a sip of water since this match started. I would know, I've been watching you."

Licking the roof of her mouth, it dawned on her just how parched she was. She grabbed the canteen and drank several mouthfuls of water.

"Thanks, I really did need that."

"No problem. God forbid you get heatstroke."

"Movement!" said a voice over the radio.

Quickly, Valarie pressed her face against her scopes and found the movement mentioned. Various trees were being jostled around and out from the brush were numerous light tanks. Panzer IIs, BT-7s, Crusaders, and Chaffees.

"They've found us," Valarie reported. "That must be their remaining light tanks. We have the high ground, so everyone hold your position. Fire on my command."

Mustang's light tanks drove forward, stopping before the river. They raised their guns and opened fired on Mojave Rose on their position, then darted backward. Mojave Rose retaliated with return fire but the dense brush did not allow them to see if their shots hit their target or not. This dance continued. Mustang would pop out of the brush, fire, and sink back in. Their agility made it rather difficult for Mojave Rose to get a shot on them. It frustrated Valarie to a point where she ordered the SU-14 to fire their shells at the brush so that not only hoping that the large explosion would get at least one of them but to also spark a fire to destroy their cover. But to no avail. The same number of tanks popped out in different locations each time.

"Ugh! That brush is too good of cover for tanks like those!" Valarie complained. She took a breath to calm down. "We're in a stalemate but we're in a better position. They still have to come to us."

At the Jumbo and Cromwell, they heard all the activity and wished that they were in all the fun.

"That could be us but we gotta be here." Haley remarked with some scorn.

"Hey, what can you do? This is something that has to be done."

"Sure, sure, but I'd like some action at least!"

The two were then interrupted by a sound in the air. A whistling sound of something piercing through the air but traveling ~much~ faster than any tank ground. Just a moment after they heard this sound did they feel a multitude of explosions around them.

"You and your big mouth!" Sage remarked. "We gotta warn the—"

Another barrage came down on the Cromwell, covering them in smoke and fire. When Haley saw the tank again, it flew the white flag.

"Oh, damn!" she yelled. "Whatever is coming down on us aren't tank rounds! They're something scarier, but what!"

Ahead, she saw what was raining down explosives. Four M4 Shermans were getting closer and all stopped and took aim.

"Shermans! But...what are those things attached to their turrets?"

The Sherman unleashed another barrage at the Jumbo, rattling the tank back and forth violently from all the explosions. Inside the tank Harper, the loader, once coming out of her daze, looked to find that the rest of her crew have been knocked unconsciousness. She tugged on her hair nervously and maneuvered her way to one of the scopes of the turret and peered through them. There, she saw the Shermans driving closer. The equipment attached to their turrets, she knew what they were. She studied vigorously about various Sherman variants with the Jumbo sparking that interest. It was a variant of the Sherman that could be _very_ dangerous if they could sneak up on the rear of her team. The Jumbo wasn't eliminated, not yet anyway. That meant that the radios still functioned. But, being deaf, speaking to the team was out of the question. It wasn't as if being deaf made her unable to speak. She could, but, as her voice was almost never used, it would come out very strange, almost alien. They would never understand her. Her mind raced with some alternative to communication when then, a genius idea hit her. She jumped in her seat with joy and immediately, carefully removed the radio headset from Haley, and pressed the earpads firmly against her throat. Attached to the radio itself was a morse code transmitter. She began composing her message, with the electric impulses being felt in her throat, which ensured that her letters were accurate.

Back on top of the hill, the fighting continued with nothing changing. Valarie watched as the same thing happened again and again, annoying her greatly.

"Just the same song-and-dance. Over and over. This can't be the only thing they're doing. Can it?"

Her crew gave her shrugs. Sighing, she reclined in her seat when the radio came alive. Instead of voices, it was electronic beeps.

"Eh? Oh! Morse code?" she exclaimed.

Everyone inside listened closely.

"C-A-L-L-I-O-P-E," Emma said aloud. "Calliope? What the hell is that?"

"Ah, ah, ugh! It's on the tip of my tongue!" Valarie remarked, rubbing her hands on her forehead. Another message then arrived.

"Y-U-C-C-A D-O-W-N B-Y R-O-C-K-E-T-S"

"Rockets? OH! T34 Calliopes! Shermans with rocket launchers!" Valarie exclaimed.

"God damn rocket launchers? Unreal. And kinda cool." Ashley remarked.

"Rocket artillery. I hate it." Heather added.

"_Yucca_ is down, and since _Sonora _is sending morse code, I can only guess that their crew is...incapacitated."

"Well, talk to them and find out?" Ashley suggested

"The thing is, I think I know who is sending us morse code. Harper, the, ah, deaf girl."

"You've got to be kidding me! She's deaf?!"

"Er, yeah? I'll explain it more later, now, our rear is under attack!" Valarie looked toward the river. "Ah, I get it now. Make us pay attention to you while your rocket launchers come to surprise us from behind. Good plan." She rubbed her chin. "Time to retaliate. _Owl_, _Acacia_, go to _Sonora_ assistance! They're under attack by rocket launcher Shermans.

"Rocket launchers?" Paige uttered. "Ah, geez, okay, we're going."

The Panther II and ACIV moved from their position on top of the hill and went down toward where their friendly tanks were situated. As they moved, they heard an explosion and when they saw the Jumbo and Cromwell, both were waving white flags. Among them were the Shermans, now noticing their presence.

"That must be those rocket-throwing Shermans," Robin said. "God. Scary looking things."

"Yeah? I bet a 17-pounder and an 88mm are scarier. Waste them!" Paige yelled.

At once, the two medium tanks opened fire. Two of the Shermans were knocked out. The remaining two aimed their rockets and fired a massive barrage, with every single rocket they have flown at them. Explosions dotted around them, showering them with sand and dirt. But not one hit them. In their haste, the Shermans haven't fully aimed at them. Now, with their rocket tubes empty, one of the Calliope commanders was totally unsure what to do next. She contemplated ordering her loader to load a shell in the breech but she saw the Panther II aiming right at them.

"Well. Shit."

Two shots and two more Shermans were knocked out. Pleased over their results, Paige radioed Valarie.

_"Oasis, _those Shermans have been taken care of. _Sonora _and _Yucca_ are down, however."

"Acknowledged," Valarie responded. "Take up their positions as the rear guard, please."

"Copy!"

With their rear secure again, Valarie took stock of the situation.

"Hmm. The amount of time their light tanks appeared and when those Shermans arrived is too short. It's like both groups were already heading this way. Like they already knew we were here."

"Are you making an accusation?" Emma asked her.

"No, not yet anyway. Just an observation."

"Do you think our radios are being tapped?" Ashley suggested.

"Eh, I don't think so. You'd need a radio balloon to do that and the skies are the clearest they can be."

"Then perhaps something like radar?" Heather chimed in.

"Radar, huh?" Valarie mused. "They may have some system that functions like radar but I'm just thinking out loud here.

Among the vehicles looking down at the river, the Jagdpanzer IV was tracking a target moving in the brush. On her scopes, Natalie watched this movement closely. In the smallest gap, she saw something that made her gasp.

"Their flag tank is down there! Their flag tank is down there!" she reported over the radio with excitement.

Everyone's attention was grabbed and the tanks on the hill moved their guns to the movement the Jagdpanzer IV was watching. All their guns opened fire but such actions yielded no results. Just smoke and fire. This was all Valarie could tolerate.

"Little bastards, I've had enough of them! All tanks, charge down the hill. We'll flush them out from the brush!"

At her command, the team moved from their position on the hill and barreled down toward the river. Tons upon tons of steel charging toward the enemy. This sudden action spooked Mustang and all of their light tanks turned and ran. As they were light tanks, they easily escaped and were soon out of their sights. The vehicles of Mojave Rose stopped at the river. Valarie rubbed her face and moaned into her hands.

"Well...we flushed them out and they just sped off. Ugh, why did I think that would work? They're way faster than us."

"Not all of us," Aurora interjected. "Me and _Nomad_ are as fast as they are. We can pursue them if you'll let us."

"Even with the casualties they've sustained, they'll outnumber you both. And neither of you have the armor to take a good hit from that."

"We don't have to fight 'em, we can just keep them in sight and give you updates. Plus, we'll find out their flag tank."

Valarie considered her suggestion for a few moments, eyes closed.

"...Okay. Keep your distance. If you have the opportunity to take their flag tank, feel free to do so. _Owl_ will go with you. The Panther II is quicker than it looks."

'Alright!" Aurora exclaimed. "Hunting pack! Let's go girls!"

The Puma and Stuart sped off toward the direction Mustang was last seen going, with the Panther II following right behind. Valarie watched as they disappeared from view.

"Be safe."

* * *

"Well, well, well, what are you guys doing now?" Lindsay remarked, looking at her tablet. On the screen, she saw three blips moving toward them. Two of these blips were moving fast while the third was moving behind them. "With how fast two of those blips are moving, that must be their Stuart and Puma. That third blip, ah, could be any of them."

"How soon will they reach us?" asked one of her commanders.

Lindsay did some math in her head.

"At their current speed, ten minutes. Hmm. We're not too far from our other reserves."

"Lure?" one suggested.

"Lure." Lindsay confirmed. She got on the radio.

"Reserve group 'B', prepare for combat."

* * *

Racing at blistering speeds, the Puma and Stuart drove madly toward Mustang's last known position. Track marks on the desert sand confirmed that they were heading in the right direction, giving them confidence. Behind them, was the Panther II, doing a pretty good job with keeping up with them.

"Wow, that cat can really move, huh?" Aurora commented.

"I'm flat-out impressed," Mia added. "A machine that can move an 88mm gun that fast around the battlefield, and can shoot in the dark, is a scary thing. Glad it's on our side."

They crested a ridge and stopped to do some spotting. The three vehicles scanned the environment ahead of them.

"Let's see, let's see, where are you?" Paige muttered.

In his gunsight, Eli was looking at various objects. Rocks. Dead tree trunks. Dunes. Then something metallic.

"What's this?"

Focusing on this object revealed to be a tank, a BT-7, aiming at their direction.

"There they are!" he exclaimed.

The little tank opened fire, its round hitting and ricocheting off the turret of the Panther II. It then sped off.

"It's time to pursue! Go, go, go!" Aurora yelled.

The three drove on. The BT-7 turned its turret around and opened fire on them. The Stuart and Puma were swerving around as a hit from the BT-7's 37mm ZiS-19 gun would eliminate them. As for the Panther II, they pursued in a straight-forward fashion. The worse thing they can do it was to scratch their paint. Well, there was something that they could do to frustrate them. The BT-7 aimed at the Panther II's turret and fired. Paige inside heard something get destroyed. Curious, she got out of her hatch and saw that the night-vision equipment has been shot off. Looking behind, she saw the mangled metal on the desert floor quickly fading from view.

"Oh, you assholes!" she swore. "They are EXPENSIVE TO REPLACE!"

The Panther II took aim at the BT-7 which began swerving wildly. A shot from the 88mm just barely missed them, but the explosion rose them in the air for a moment. The Puma and Stuart began taking shots as well, but because they were swerving too, their accuracy left much to be desired. The BT-7 by the skin of their teeth managed to evade their shots and soon led them to a dry lake bed. There, they saw the rest of Mustang's light tanks. Looking through her sights, Aurora spotted one of their tanks with a flag.

"There it is! Their flag tank is Panzer II! Ah, can't tell what version of it though. But damn, is it moving fast!'

Mustang's light tanks were moving away from them and passed by three vehicles of larger stature. They moved on as the three larger tanks approached.

"What's this then? What are those tanks? They're huge!" Mia exclaimed.

Out of her hatch and using her binoculars, she took a closer look at one of them. From the paint job, it was clear that it was a Soviet tank. One with an unusual design. It not only had a 76mm cannon but two 45mm secondary guns.

"This thing has multiple turrets! What!"

Dead ahead were three Soviet T-35 tanks, land battleships. They turned at an angle to get all their guns to bear and opened up. Nine guns were firing on all of them, a horrible shower of metal shards and explosions. The Stuart and Puma accelerated toward them, doing their absolute best to dodge all the firepower being flung at them. The Panther II slowed to a stop and choose a target from the crowd. The T-35s took notice of their actions and focused all of their fire on the Panther II. Yet not even the 76mm could hope to penetrate the thing from the front. With all the firepower it was withstanding, the 88mm gun turned and fired upon one of the T-35s, silencing them.

"Another shell!" Paige commanded.

The Puma and Stuart took a wide berth around the T-35s and made their way behind them and took aim.

"Alright you Frankensteins, the match is over for you." Aurora proclaimed.

Though before either of them managed to let off a shot, Mustang's light tanks have returned. Their Panzer II flag tank, with its 20mm Flak 38 autocannon, emptied a magazine into the rear of the Stuart. Shots peppered them to hell and back, eliminating them from play. The Puma, before it could even react, was knocked out by a shot from an M24 Chaffee. The Panther II took out the remaining T-35s as they shoot at them in vain. Now, it was just them and the light tanks.

"Well. Things have gone south a bit." Paige remarked.

Gun loaded, the Panther II stood its ground waiting for the light tanks to make their move. They just slinked away.

"Yeah, you, uh, you better run!"

Not wanting to pursue them alone, the Panther II waited for the rest of the team to catch up with them. They saw all the action that has just taken place.

"Casualties?" Valarie asked.

"Er...yeah. _Nomad_ and _Mirage_."

Valarie sighed.

"Our two fastest tanks...well, at least you've taken out their...T-35s? Wow, that's unique to see."

"Likewise. So, what's next?"

"You've mentioned that a Panzer II was their flag tank. Now, we know that Mustang had reserve groups and I'm willing to bet that the Shermans and T-35s were them. The light tanks are all that they have left. Which is...problematic."

"How so?"

"Without the Puma or Stuart, they can just stay ahead of us till we run out of gas where they then can take us out on by one. We need to know exactly where there are, not just go in a general direction so make efficient use of our fuel."

"How can we do that?"

"I'm...I'm not sure. Let's just sit tight for a rest. I'll think of something."

The team relaxed but still were alert in some capacity. Some people got out of their vehicles to stretch their legs. The heat was still strong but they ignored it as they walked around outside. Natalie as the first person out and about. On a whim, she decided to walk toward a nearby sand dune. She knelt down and sunk her hands into the sand. The deeper she got, the cooler it felt.

"Ahhh, nice."

She did this again at other sections of the dune to enjoy that cooling sensation repeatedly. At one section, when she sank her hands, she brushed up against something hard that freaked her out a little, causing her to withdraw her hands. After thinking about it more, she dug into the dune again and found the object. It wasn't an animal which she feared it was. Instead, it was something more artificial. She got a good grip on it and pulled it out of the dune. It was the size of a briefcase and felt hefty.

"What? What is this thing?"

She inspected it, toyed with a latch, and the thing opened. Within, she saw a needle writing on a paper, moving up and down.

"Valarie! Come over here" she yelled.

Coming quickly, she came to her side.

"What's up?"

"Take a look at what I found." Natalie said, presenting the device.

Valarie examined the thing and deduced what it was.

"A seismometer. The thing that detects earthquakes."

"Ah, I see. Why is it here then? And why is it functioning? It can't have been here for long."

"You got that right. It was placed here recently. Very recently."

"Perhaps," Natalie mused. "When the match started."

Valarie looked at her then back at the device. Everything clicked.

"Of course!" she exclaimed. "They deployed these things all over the battlefield. But instead of detecting earthquakes, they were detecting us! They knew where we are nearly the entire team. They know where we are right now. Smart...very smart."

"Is this against the rules?"

"No," Valarie responded immediately. "What teams cannot bring to their matches is a very _short_ list. Seismometers are certainly not on that list. I'm betting because no team thought to use them before."

"In that case, let's destroy it then."

Natalie grabbed a rock and was prepared to bash the thing till it was just mangled parts but Valarie stopped her.

"Actually. I've got an idea," she said. Valarie turned toward the T-44 and called someone to join her. "Ashley!"

Racing over, she joined the pair. Upon seeing the device, she got curious.

"Oooh, what do we have here? Some seismometer?"

"Yep. I know your good with tech. Mind finding a way to use their tech against them?" Valarie asked.

"Oh, with pleasure." Ashley responded with the hugest grin.

Kneeling down, she fiddled with the thing. Noting that it was giving off a signal, she whipped out her phone. She just so happened to have an app that was well-suited for such situations. In a few seconds, it acquired the connection without prompting her for a password.

"I love unsecure connections." she remarked.

On her phone, she found a plethora of options now at her disposal. She let out a laugh.

"Alrighty then. I have access...just one more moment and...there!"

She showed Valarie and Natalie her phone. There were a bunch of blips on them.

"What are those blips?" Natalie questioned

"That's us! Their devices have been modified to detect us because we have heavier tanks. It says so in the settings."

"Settings? You can change those settings, yeah?" Valarie asked.

"Mmmhmm. I sure can," Ashley said with a devilish grin. "With just a change with the parameters, we can see them too."

"Do it."

With a few taps on her phone, more blips appeared on the screen. All of them to the west, in one group.

"That's them," Valarie declared. "And that's all they have left. Five light tanks. Can they see the changes you've made?"

"Nope. It's just on my phone...but I can make it so the changes I make appear on their screens.

Valarie rubbed her hands with satisfaction.

"Excellent," she then turned toward the team. "Everyone! Back to your tanks. We're moving out!" She faced Ashley. "You're now our navigator. Get us on the best path to them."

"Copy that!"

Quickly, everyone remounted their vehicles and with the T-44 taking point, went directly toward Mustang. During their drive, Ashley gave regular updates on their positions. From what was being said, Mustang was staying put in a valley. But as they were making progress toward them, Mustang began to move to the east. Of course, Mustang can see them on their tablets, but now, so can Mojave Rose. Still, there was still a problem.

"There's no point in knowing where they are if they also know where we are. They can still keep their distance and wait for us to run out of fuel. Got anything to deal with that, Ashley?"

Ashley was looking at her phone and studying her options.

"Hmm. One moment...and...there. I've given myself admin privileges. Now I can _really_ do some work. Ah, let's see. How about testing the seismometers by making them think a huge earthquake is happening, like, ah, a magnitude ten?"

With a grin, Valarie gave her a nod and with the tap of her finger, the command was sent.

Far from there position, Mustang was moving in an easterly position. Looking at her tablet, Lindsay was greeted with a bewildering sight.

"Huh? What! There's...waves all over the screen?"

All of her other commanders reported the same thing.

"Is an honest-to-god earthquake happening right now?" one commander asked.

"Can't be," Lindsay said. "The devices aren't calibrated for that."

"Well, we're looking at the same screens, yeah? Something is triggering them!"

"It's gotta be a glitch or something." Lindsay said as she went into her settings. There, she found the culprit.

"Oh, the earthquake test was the culprit. Who triggered that? C'mon, fess up!"

"Lindsay, only you have admin rights for the program. Only you can do that."

She was at a loss.

"Then how did it trigger?" she said. Lindsay deactivated the test and the screen cleaned up. Now the only blips were Mojave Rose's. Much closer to their position.

"God, now's not the time for software glitches! Pick up the pace, they're getting too close!"

Back at the T-44, Ashley was laughing in her seat, rocking back and forth.

"Ha! They're so confused, I can feel it!"

"What else can you do to confuse them?"

Ashley pondered as she looked at the settings. She let out another laugh.

"Oh my God, I can change the setting that determines what triggers the seismometers. I can make them so sensitive that they'll detect the movements of animals in burrows underground."

"Go for it."

"I've already done it. Oh, and I may have removed the admin rights of someone on their team, meaning that now I have complete control."

"Astounding," Valarie replied. "Just amazing."

Over at Mustang's position, all of their commanders were shocked to see that on their tablets were now showing an innumerable amount of blips.

"Holy shit! They're everywhere!" one exclaimed in panic.

"No! That's not all of them! They don't have that many tanks!" Lindsay retorted. "We're experiencing one hell of a glitch." She opened her setting but was prevented from changing anything. She was greeted with a message.

_You do not have administrator privileges._

"What do you mean I have no privileges!? This isn't a glitch, we've been hacked!"

The Mojave Rose team drove merrily along. On Ashley's phone, her screen too was awash with blips but throughout the mess, could still tell what blips where Mustang's and what were animals. She directed Valarie, who in turn directed the team, to their location. With the path she created, they'll intercept them in a few minutes.

"Val, all this confusion caused them to slow down a bit." Ashley reported.

"Good, very good. This time around, it'll be us giving them a surprise."

They increased their speed and soon found themselves on a ridge. Ahead and below them was Mustang, driving horizontally away from them. Among them was their flag tank, which Valarie determined was a Panzer II Ausf. G. The German light tank was moving rapidly across the sand.

"Alright, they there are! Every take aim and fire at their Panzer II! Take that thing out!" Valarie ordered.

At once, every gun exploded as they sent rounds downrange. The Panzer II took evasive action and managed to evade the incoming fire, at times, just barely. More shots were fired but were similar misses. Amid the shooting, Heather had some unpleasant news for Valarie.

"Valarie. The gas gauge reports that we have about ten percent of fuel left."

"Ten percent? Did we use that much? God!" She went on the radio. "Everyone, how are you on fuel?"

"Uhhhh, could be better." Paige informed.

"Can anyone point me to the nearest gas station?" Robin joked.

"We're running on fumes here!" Ray shared.

As life liked playing cruel jokes, the moment Ray said that sentence, the engine of the IS-3 cut-out as the last of its fuel was exhausted. He looked at his engine, shocked.

"Welp! That's it!" he yelled. "We're stuck here, but we can still shoot!"

"We need to take out their flag tank_ here _and_ now_. If they escape, we'll never catch them!" Valarie exclaimed.

Every gun on the team continued their barrage, with the Panzer II managing to avoid fatal hits. A few moments later, the Super Pershing was the next tank whose engine went silent.

"Man, this sucks." Louise commented.

The Panzer II was getting more distant. Ranging becoming more difficult. In the SU-100, Nora was at her scopes making out the range.

"2300 meters...2500 meters...2600 meters."

A round was loaded into the breech. Leah, the gunner, was at her sights.

"They're getting farther away. Leah, you ready?" Nora asked.

"Not yet," she responded. "Just a bit more."

"2800 meters away."

"One second."

"2900 meters...Leah!"

Leah was focused. The Panzer II was just a dot in her crosshairs but still, has found her range. She pulled the trigger and a 100mm round was shot down the valley. Like a hot knife through butter, it cut through the air like it was nothing. It wobbled faintly as it rotated, thanks to the rifling of the 100mm cannon of the SU-100. At a velocity of 780 meters per second, only a high-speed camera could have caught the shell as it flew. In just a matter of moments, the round slammed into the rear of the Panzer II, the force of the impact turning the tank a full one-hundred eighty degrees. Once it came to a stop, a white flag popped out its turret. At a range of 3000 meters, the SU-100 has given the team something wonderful.

A victory.

Valarie got out of her hatch and stood on top of the T-44. With her binoculars, she saw the work the SU-100 had done.

"Wow! What a shot at 3000 freaking meters!" she yelled out in glee. Then the realization hit her hard.

"We're...we're going to the finals. The finals!" she exclaimed. The realization caused her to sit down. Her friends got out of the tank and joined her.

"Finals? Did we really make it?" Emma asked.

"I've never been to the 'finals' of anything! Hell yeah!" Ashley celebrated.

"Same here," Heather added. "To make it this far in anything makes me feel so good."

The T-44 crew got off their tank and led the team to the SU-100 where they surrounded it. Once the crew got out, they all cheered. Cheered for the gunner. Leah felt overwhelmed with pride and gratitude.

"Aw, guys...thanks." she said, blushing hard.

"You a real sniper, aren't you?" Valarie complimented. "You've done the winning move, congrats on that," She then turned to face the whole team. "But! We wouldn't even make this far without each other! This is _our_ victory today!

* * *

It was approaching the late afternoon when both teams returned to the spectator's area. Back under some shade, the Mojave Rose team relaxed at their private tent, soaking in the victory they achieved. Redwood and Buchanan were with them, proud beyond belief.

"The finals," Buchanan uttered. "God. When I was with my old tankery team, we didn't make it to the finals the first try. But you guys did. Fu...er, freaking incredible. You kids are something else."

"Indeed you guys are," Redwood said. "Making it to the finals of any competition is an achievement in of itself. Congratulations!"

Everyone laid back and lounged around. They either napped or talked with the people next to them. Valarie sat on one of the benches, with Emma leaning against her shoulder. Heather and Ashley sat on a bench below them. They enjoyed the relative tranquility when at the entrance of the tent appeared a girl. Looking around, she saw Valarie and walked right up to her.

"Valarie,' the girl said. "Captain of the Mojave Rose tankery team?"

"I am. Hello."

"Hello. I'm Lindsay. Captain of Mustang Middle College's tankery team. Fun match, huh?"

"Oh, yes it was. I bet, though, it was really fun knowing exactly where we are with those seismometers."

Lindsay looked surprised.

"Oh...you found them?"

"Mmmhmm. We also tinkered with them to our advantage."

"Ah, so it was you causing that mess. It wasn't a glitch."

"Nope. Though it really wasn't me causing you that grief, but my loader. She has a knack for electronics and such."

"Yep, we experienced that first hand. That was pretty genius of you guys, though, to turn out own tech against us."

Valarie grinned as she showed a faint blush.

"Thank you, thank you."

"You know, I like teams who can quickly adapt to situations through creative solutions," she dug into her pockets and gave her a slip of paper.

"Let's keep in contact. We both have things to teach each other. And, who knows when our paths will cross again. Maybe, we'll fight on your side. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"That sounds awesome! Hopefully one day!"

The girls shook hands and Lindsay departed. Valarie returned to her crew.

"That's another number to the collection!" she cheered.

"Well, good for you, little Miss Popular." Emma teased.

Ashley, who was just sitting around, then stood up.

"I know the match just ended but I'm dead curious about the school we're going against in the finals. How can we find that out, like, right now?"

"Well, two matches are happening today and the winners will face off the finals," Valarie explained. Her eye caught an ATA official and walked over to her.

"Excuse me, but is the tankery match in Ohio over now?"

"Ah, one sec," the official said, checking her tablet. "Uh, yeah! It ended an hour ago."

"Cool. Who are we going against in the finals?"

She checked her tablet once more.

"Molly Pitcher Girl's Academy."


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's June and it's shaping up to be one hell of a month.

_June 1st, 2013_

_Boston_

Last night, every member of the Molly Pitcher tankery team, save for a select few, received a text message from Penelope.

_Practice on Saturday will be held at five in the evening. For reasons that will be clear once you arrive. Please do not enter the garage._

That surprised them. Tankery practice had always started at nine in the morning for the team, but now, the night before, suddenly it has changed to be many hours later. In all their minds, one thought dominated. Why? Why this change? Once Saturday arrived, they arrived at the school and made their way to the garage. Penelope seemed to be aware of their presence as they all then received another text from her.

_"Here? Good. Prepare for a surprise ;)"_

Now their curiosity has reached new heights. They went from walking to running to reach the garage as soon as possible. The surprise Penelope was alluding to can only mean one thing; a new acquisition. As they got closer, they all entered into a full sprint as the excitement has taken hold of them. Watching them approach was Penelope, standing in front of the large doors of the team's garage. Patiently waiting for them

"Penelope," one girl asked amid breaths of air. "What's...the...surprise?"

She grinned at them, pleased over the fact that they are all eager to find out what the surprise meant. She placed her hands behind her back and walked toward them.

"Why tell you," she said, chuckling. Behind her, in the garage, an engine roared to life. The power it resonated was like nothing else they heard in their entire lives. "When I can just show you?"

On cue, the doors of the garage opened. They seemed to open slower than usual, much to the irritation of the team, who began demanding that it go faster. It all made Penelope that more amused. When the gap was wide enough, they saw it. What Penelope has worked on for the past few months to acquire. All the chattering on the team was turned into a dead silence. They all looked in immense awe at the new addition of the team, walking slowly closer to it as they were in a state of disbelief that such a tank was actually before them, operational.

"This...this can't be legal. Can it?" one wondered aloud.

"Such. Power." another remarked, astonished.

"So god-damn cool."

Out from the garage, walked out Caroline.

"I knew you fine ladies would love it. Once this tank gets its debut in the finals, it'll be not only the envy of tankery teams of the country but all throughout the world!

"Emphasis on debut," Penelope remarked. "You all under to understand that it is crucial that we keep the news of our new addition_ very_ low key. The element of surprise is something that all captains and commanders covet. When we spring this machine onto our opponents at the national finals, they'll be blindsided to hell. As of right now, only we now of the tank's existence. And I intend on keeping it that way. That is why we're holding practice later than usual so that the chances of anyone outside the team seeing it is at a minimum."

"Isn't that a bit much? The team we're going against is literally from the other side of the country." one member inquired.

"I don't care if they are from another galaxy," she said with anger, her face scowling. "EVERYONE here will keep this tank a secret. You'll treat it like the Manhattan Project. If ANYONE leaks this info, accident or otherwise, I will make sure your semester will be a living hell. That is not a promise, that's a threat! You all got that?"

With the fear of God put into them, every single member of the team nodded. Penelope composed herself and put on a warm smile.

"Splendid! Now, before we go any further, I'm going to answer the question I'm sure is on all your minds. A crew has already been selected for the tank."

A sea of disappointed groans hit Penelope's ears. She shushed them.

"Now, now. I can sympathize to a degree. But a tank like that can really only be crewed by veterans of the sport."

Out from the hatch was the commander of the new tank. She wore her hair, a brilliant copper color, in a classic french braid. Upon seeing the rest of the team, she gave them a smile and a short playful wave.

"Ah, I should've known it'd be Lilith as the commander," one girl commented. "No one else on the team has been in tankery longer than her."

Lilith has been doing tankery since her time in elementary school, and even before she was even in school at all, since a young age, she had been exposed to the sport as her mother was a tankery athlete. In fact, the women in her family can trace their tankery history all the way back when the sport first got started in the United States. Her family is renowned for their tankery in the Commonwealth, so when Lilith first applied to Molly Pitcher, the school never accepted an application so fast. Penelope was over the moon when she learned that Lilith was attending, so the moment she stepped foot on campus for orientation, she and Caroline essentially drafted her for their tankery team. Serving with distinction commanding team's Mark VII Churchill, she and several other members on the team, have been specially selected to crew the new tank.

"Lilith and her crew will do us proud in the finals," Penelope said. "Though they alone won't bring us a victory. It is up to all of us to make that a reality. Now, with all that said, to your tanks!" she yelled. "It's time to practice!"

_Port of Long Beach_

"Friends, Romans, countrymen. Lend me your ears. I've come to bury Caesar, not to bury him. The evil that men do lives after. The good is oft interred with their bones. So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus hath told you Caesar was...was...damn! Line!" Madison yelled.

"Ambitious." replied Alice.

"Argh! Why did I forget that? I know Shakespeare! And this my favorite play! I shouldn't forget a word of it! No less Marc Antony's funeral speech!"

"Hey, it happens."

Madison plopped down in her chair. The pair were in Madison's dorm and were rehearsing some lines.

"Madi," Alice said with comfort. "You're not focused. I can feel that."

"Yeah? And I bet you know why."

"I do. It's June. The day is getting closer and closer. You know. Meeting her."

Madison rubbed her forehead.

"God, you're exactly right. It's all I can think about right now. I'm so excited about it but also terrified. In my head, I imagine it going well. But, sometimes, my mind wants to be a scoundrel and creates scenes of it being an absolute trainwreck. It makes my stomach turn...it makes be doubt."

"Don't you dare doubt!" Alice exclaimed. "If you back out, you will spend the rest of your life thinking about it, thinking about 'what if'. That is a fate worse than death."

Madison sank her face into her hands.

"I know...I know," she muttered. She then sat straight up in her chair. "Don't you worry, Alice. I _am _doing it. After everything I've done just to get my offer the green light and all the things I've done with that file I've shown you back in March—"

"Lord, that file!" Madison gasped. "I'm still astounded at the lengths you've went to get that information."

"Mmm," Madison muttered. "That private investigator did a superb job."

"Was he expensive to hire?"

"Eh, he only asked for three-hundred dollars an hour." Madison explained all nonchalantly.

"Oh?! _Only_ three-hundred bucks an hour?" Alice said in a sarcastic manner. "The poor man! How could anyone ever survive on such meager wages!"

Madison crossed her arms and legs and gave her a look.

"What are you trying to say here?"

"Madi, you're my best friend. I've been there for you when you win accolades for your acting and been your shoulder to cry on when going through break-ups. But, I have to say this. You have absolutely no concept of the value money. At all." She pointed at the TV in Madison's dorm. "When you first got that thing, you told me it was 'only' two thousand dollars."

"Well, yeah! Other models were twice that! Can you believe that? I doubt my 4K TV at two thousand is any worse than one at four."

"Madi. That's not the point. Some people flat-out cannot afford such luxury."

"Alice, it's not my fault my parents are rich! No one can control what family they are born too!"

"I'm not blaming you. I just want you to be the best person you can be. When you meet the girl you won't stop talking about later in June and behave like the stereotypical rich girl, she might hate you."

"No," Madison said with fear in her voice. "No...I don't want that at all!"

Alice went up to her friend and hugged her.

"Calm yourself," she said as she caressed her hair. "It'll all go great. I just know it."

As they shared a moment, a folded piece of paper was slipped under the dorm's door. Curious, Madison went over, picked it up, and unfolded it. It was a drawing of her kissing a familiar person. The title on top read,

_Madison and her Girlfriend from the Mojave!_

She crushed the paper in her hand and threw it in the trash.

"Fools. You don't know a damn thing about any of it."

_Monday_

_Barstow_

The feeling of victory remained high as the Mojave Rose tankery team conducted their tasks at the meeting after school. For tanks that suffered damage during the previous match, they were busy. At the Panther II, the crew was tightening the last bolt on their replacement night vision equipment. With a sigh of satisfaction, Paige looked on the work just finished.

"I swear, the next person who shoots off our night vision is getting beaten."

The rest of her crew concurred and then busied themselves with general maintenance. At the Jagdpanzer IV, the crew there had less work to do and were among the few who were finished with their tasks and just lounging around. As Natalie was daydreaming, she then noticed Ray inspecting her tank, as if he was reading something.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she asked him.

"Reading the serial numbers. I noticed the same thing on my tank and wondered if yours had the same."

"Oh. I saw those numbers before but never gave it much thought."

"Well, when I saw these numbers, it got me thinking. The tanks on this team, with the exception of the Panther II, weren't built with tankery in mind. They were all manufactured for war. I'm betting most have fascinating combat histories. So, why not do some research on them and find out what units they served under during the Second World War."

"Oooh! That'd be cool!" Natalie said with excitement.

"Yeah! I'll compile all the info and present it to the team. It'll require lots of research but, oddly, I like doing that. The team will love what I dig up."

Natalie hummed with satisfaction and pulled Ray to a more secluded area of the garage. They held each other in their arms, looking tenderly in each other's eyes.

"I love this side of you, you getting all academic. Oh, I can just picture you surrounded by books, reading for hours on end, wearing a turtleneck, sipping on fancy coffee." she said in a low voice.

He chuckled softly and brought her closer.

"Mmm, what else can you picture me doing?"

She leaned into his ear and lowered her voice further to a whisper.

"I can picture you doing a lot of things to me."

It took a moment but then he understood what she meant and entered into a deep blush. They both entered into a laugh when then Valarie called everyone to the team to her. She wanted to share some words regarding upcoming events. Standing on top of the turret of the T-44, she watched as the team gathered around the tank.

"Everyone, I just wanted to say a few things. We've come so far when we first met back in October. We all remember devoting every moment of our time getting ready for our first match. Now, we're in the finals. If you told me a year ago that I'd be part of a team in the national finals, I'd laugh in your face. It would be so unbelievable. But here it is, real as day. The finals match will be difficult. Uniquely so. There won't be a flag tank, it's an elimination match. We can only win if we knock our every tank on the enemy team. It'll be challenging for sure, but hey, we've been facing challenges since the team's inception. Now, here's another thing. Let's say we win. A big 'if'. A massive 'if.' But let's pretend that we did. We won't be done. If you didn't know, the winner of the national tournament will represent the United States at the world competition."

Everyone was silent. Most weren't aware of that fact. The prospect of traveling the world was thrilling, but at the same time, it made them nervous. Only a few people on the time has ever traveled outside the country, and for most, being on the tankery team was the only opportunity they had to even travel around the country.

"But that is all just an 'if'," Valarie continued. "For now, the finals is our only concern. I've said it before but I'll say it again. The only thing I expect from you is your best."

With her speech at its end, she gestured to everyone to resume tending to their vehicles. Valarie hopped off the tank and was surrounded by her friends. Ashley gave her an exaggerated salute.

"Excellent speech, General!" she teased. "I'm sure the troops won't let ya down!"

Valarie grinned and laughed.

"That was cool, Valarie." Heather complimented. "Did you memorize that beforehand or did it all just come out?"

"I just made it up as I went."

"Impressive."

Emma gave her a big hug.

"Wordsmith!" she exclaimed

All their words made her blush.

"Wow, guys, thank you."

They all went to the front of their tank and just sat on the front hull. As they were just relaxing, Ashley then looked at Valarie. She had a question for her.

"Val, ah, a bit random, but, do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No. I'm an only child."

"Hmm, interesting," Ashley mused. "I'm an only child too, and so is Heather. Emma, are you...?"

"Yes," Emma replied. "I'm the only kid my parents have."

"Fascinating," Ashley uttered. "We all don't have any siblings at all. My parents wanted more kids, but, my mom told me how when she was pregnant with me, it was absolute hell. She felt nauseous the entire time and there was always a place on her body that ached. She does' want to go through that again."

"That's rough," Heather reacted. "My parents from the onset just wanted one child. We live in an apartment after all so space is at a premium. I was born at the same hospital my parents now work in. That reminds me, my dad recorded video of my birth. Do you guys wanna see it?"

They all politely but vigorously said no.

"For my parents, more children were just too expensive," Emma shared. "So the decision was easy to just have one, me."

They all looked to Valarie as it was her turn to share. She let out a little nervous laugh.

"Um, I was an accident." she told them.

Emma already knew this fact, but for Ashley and Heather, their faces were gold.

"Accident? Oh..." Ashley remarked.

"I didn't expect that if I'm being honest." Heather added.

"Yeah, I'm an accident," Valarie continued. "But that doesn't mean my parents never wanted a child. My dad has fertility problems. They tried for a child for so long but no success. Then, out of the blue, my mom found out she was pregnant with me which scared the hell out of her because for the weeks she didn't know she was pregnant, she was smoking. She quit smoking that day and for the rest of her pregnancy, my parents were in a state of fear thinking about if I had some birth defect. But, when I was born, I was a healthy baby. The healthiest baby the doctor has ever seen, she told them."

She looked at all of them with a huge smile, her cheeks blushing yet again.

"I'm an only child, sure, but with you guys, I never feel alone. I...I love you all."

They all hugged Valarie in a warm, tender embrace. The bond between them all has strengthened further. There wasn't a shred of doubt in any of their minds that they'll be lifelong companions. That was known before, but moments like this solidified it. As dusk arrived, the team was dismissed for the day. The T-44 crew bid their goodbyes and went to their respective homes. Any day that ends with a wholesome moment is a good day indeed.

_That Evening_

For some time now, Redwood has been planning. In all the projects he had worked on for the school and for the team, this was by far the one that is the most important, yet it related to none of that. It was a personal matter. One that would be lifechanging. It all hinges on the response of the special woman in his life gives to his question. _The_ question. Getting Buchanan's ring size without her knowledge was a crucial part of his planning, and has spent the past few days shopping for something that'll make her ring finger pop. They were pricey things for sure, but, will be worth the money for someone he fiercely loves so much. When secretly browsing at the jeweler's, where he told Buchanan that he was getting take-out, which he did bring, he searched for the perfect ring. And sometimes, there is perfection in simplicity. What he found and purchased was a pair of gold rings, 8mm in width, each engraved with floral designs. They were _expensive_ but, that's just the nature of rings. When he returned home with them, he hid them deep in the drawers by his bedside. With that taken care of, he now wondered how it will all go down. It'll have to be somewhere where it'll just be them. Thinking about it more, he then recalled all the hiking equipment she has. It all came together.

"Gabby," he said. The two of them were sitting on the couch, with Buchanan leaning against him. "How do you feel about doing some, ah, hiking this Sunday?"

"Hiking?" she repeated, cocking her head to look at him. "Mmm, yeah. I'm up for it. It's been a while since I last been on any trail."

"Nice, and, uh, I bet you know some good spots with nice scenic views?"

"I know a good one, and it's not too difficult for those new to hiking."

He laughed lightly.

"You saying I'm out of shape?"

"Oh no," Buchanan assured. "I'm just saying that you want a more relaxing hike rather than a more arduous

"You'd be correct."

They snuggled for a moment and resumed watching whatever was on TV. It wasn't particularly entertaining or captivating so Redwood asked another question.

"With the finals approaching, it wouldn't hurt to pick up another tank. Any luck in that regard?"

She sighed.

"Not at all. Every junkyard I've called told me that either they never had tanks or any tanks they did have been quickly snagged by another school. They're a no-go. We're lucky to have the tanks we have. The Jumbo and SU-14 in that abandoned mine, the Super Pershing literally under our feet, and a Panther II which the team won through the race. We've never really bought any tanks since getting our first batch, which does save us tons of money, but not enough money to buy a tank either from a dealership or from a company like, ah, Patton Engineering who makes a tank for you."

"Hmm, so just coming across one is our best bet."

"Yeah, but that's rolling the dice. If we find one, it'll most likely be in terrible shape. Rusted. Missing parts. Vandalized. If you thought the SU-100 was in rough shape, it'll look like it was in mint condition compared to whatever tank is out there in the wild."

"You don't have much hopes for finding a tank, huh?"

"Not really, no."

"Well, stranger things have happened. I bet the next tank we get will be from an unexpected place.

"Maybe..." she muttered. "Maybe we will. Maybe we won't. And it scares me a little."

"Why?"

"Because the finals match is an elimination match. In all the previous matches, numbers don't matter. The flag tank did. But, that's the opposite in an elimination match. The team with the most tanks has the obvious advantage. And I'm especially worried because I've taken a look at the school the team will be facing off against."

"Who are they exactly?"

"A private school from Massachusetts. Molly Pitcher. You know how private schools are, Martin."

"Wealthy beyond measure?"

"Exactly, and Molly Pitch looks like one of the wealthiest schools on the Eastern Seaboard from the research I've done. They have sixty tanks on their team. ~sixty~."

"That's absurd! Will there be that many at the match?"

"No, for elimination matches, the maximum amount of tanks any team can field is twenty-five."

"They're going to outnumber us regardless then. We only have thirteen tanks in total."

"And wanna know something else? The thing about the number of Molly Pitcher's tanks is that you can't really know for sure what tanks they'll be using right up until you go against them. They have the ability to choose what tanks are being operated. Us? We don't have that. We use everything we have. You know what that means, do you?"

"That Molly Pitcher knows our entire roster and will adapt accordingly?"

"Precisely."

"The match is gonna be a rough one, huh?"

"'Rough' would be an understatement. Especially against a team that has actually won the national tournament a few times before."

He stared at her for a moment.

"Lord," he said under his breath. "The match is gonna be the fight of their lives."

"It will be. But I'm confident that they will win."

"Well, you're their instructor. You're supposed too."

"Yeah, yeah, but look. Anyone can say that just to be polite. But I'm being honest-to-god genuine here. I've told you before that this team is something else. I didn't say that to be polite, I can _feel_ that they are special. I...I can't explain...maybe it's just a woman's thing ya know? A woman's intuition? Ah, it's...something!"

He held her hands and squeezed them.

"I think I got an idea about why."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. The team is special to you because of all the good it has done to you. Ending your phase being reclusive in your old apartment, rekindling your love for the sport, and, most important of all, finding closure for your trauma. You haven't had a night terror in forever."

Buchanan took a moment to contemplate.

"You're...right. I've never really taken all those things into account. Though, there is another reason why the team is special that you've failed to mention."

"And what's that?"

"Falling in love with you all over again."

Smitten, the two kissed passionately and lost themselves to the night. The month of June had just begun and it will be a month to remember for everyone. The finals of the American National Tournament are upon Mojave Rose High School and Molly Pitcher Girl's Academy, with both sides consumed with preparation, planning, and training. All of their work, all of their effort, and all of their struggles, all leading to each other.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finals get closer, Valarie shares her opinions on crabs, and Redwood and Buchanan enter the next phase of their relationship.

_June 4th, 2013_

_Barstow_

Just moments after waking up, Valarie grabbed her laptop and went to a website she had gone to many times before. There, on an internet forum, she found an active thread.

_U.S Tankery Tournament Megathread - Version 16 - SAVE THE DATE! JUNE 22!_

Every time the national tournament kicks off, tankery-centric web forums are abuzz with activity as users from all over the country, and some from other nations, flood in to talk about the event. She lurked in this thread in particular, reading all the things the users have posted. With the finals approaching, her school and who they were going off against were mentioned frequently.

_"A public school versus an exorbitantly wealthy private school? I think we all know how this is gonna end."_

_"I like Mojave Rose, but, man, they got their work cut out for them."_

_"Screw you both, I think they can win!"_

_"You're only saying that because you bet 500 bucks on them when the tournament started"_

_"So?"_

_"Anyway, who has the latest odds?"_

_"Right here. The odds are 70/30 to Molly Pitcher and Mojave Rose respectively._

_"Molly Pitcher has the numbers advantage! That is huge in an elimination match! And they can choose what tanks to put out to the field! Mojave Rose doesn't have that luxury!"_

_"If your use of exclamation is any indication, you're a loudmouth in real life."_

_"If we meet in real life, I'll kick your ass!"_

The thread devolved into bickering between users. With discussion going away from the tournament, Valarie closed her laptop and, laying in bed, stared at the ceiling. All the forum posts she has read have mentioned one thing repeatedly; that her team is outnumbered. A fact that would have bothered her less if the match wasn't an elimination match. It made her mind groan. She was aware that Buchanan has been on the hunt for more vehicles for the team, though if her demeanor of the last few days is any indication, her search has yielded nothing but frustration. Valarie herself, with all the things going on in her life, doesn't really have the freetime necessary to go out and about looking for tanks. She couldn't just go far and wide to look for new acquisitions...though she did know someone who just happened to travel as part of their profession. Her dad. She reached for her phone on her nightstand and gave him a call.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart! What's going on?" he answered in a cheery tone.

"Dad! Where are you driving right now?"

"Passing through Kirkland, Washington. It's all rainy here."

"Ah, I bet. Anyway Dad, did you happen to see any tanks on your drives that the team could snag?"

"Baby, believe me, I've been keeping a sharp eye out but no dice. The only tanks I've seen are those in dealerships, but aren't they too pricey for the team?"

She sighed, which was audible enough for her dad to hear.

"Yeah...the price of a good tank would nearly drain our finances. Thanks anyway dad. Be safe driving, and love you."

"Love you too."

The call ended and Valarie sunk her face into her pillow and moaned into it. With the match just next week, the chances of them finding a tank were decreasing exponentially. And even if the team could get a tank, the crew for it would have to be trained at lightspeed to get them ready and for the national finals no less! She then recalled a moment from the Japanese nationals where her favorite tankery athlete, and somewhat of a personal hero, was in the same situation she was.

"Miho Nishizumi," she said out loud to her empty home. "I'm in your place now. In the finals and outnumbered. Yet you...you managed to pull it off. But that was because you have two things I don't. You've been in tankery way longer than I have. I've been a fan for years, but actually being an athlete? I'm totally new compared to you. Not to mention your family has a history with tankery since forever. Then, you had to fight to save your school not once, but twice! That sense of urgency impacted the way you commanded. All those factors combined made you win."

She took in a deep breath. Then, she grabbed her backpack and wore it.

"I don't know how the finals will go. And, what's comforting for me is, you didn't know either for yours. I don't have what you have, but I don't need it. It'll all depend on our abilities...and a good dosage of luck. I think you'll agree with that."

With her pretend conversation coming to a conclusion, Valarie left her home and made the routine walk to the bus stop. Her mind inundated with thought and a tinge of doubt.

_Noon_

In the computer lab of the school's library, Ray was totally consumed by a computer screen. On it was just completely filled with words. Historical records. He had cataloged all the serial numbers, and any other info that could help, of the team's vehicles so that he can research their histories.

"Exciting stuff, huh?" Natalie remarked. She was sitting next to him, watching Ray as he researched.

"It is," he replied, not looking away from the screen. "I've found some info about my IS-3. It never seen combat from what I've read. Did see its fair share of parades though, which is kind fun."

"Oooh, that's fascinating. That means that in our matches, it's the first time the thing has actually been fired upon."

"Mmm, a baptism by fire...kinda."

"So, did you start work on research on my tank? The pancake panzer?"

He chuckled.

"Pancake panzer," he repeated. "Ah, no. I haven't yet. Though, considering that the Jagdpanzer IV, in general, did see combat, I'm sure it has a more interesting story. And, um, there is this possibility that...ah...nevermind."

"What do you mean 'nevermind'?"

He put on a teasing face.

"If I'm right you'll know soon enough."

"And if you're wrong about whatever you're being so suddenly secretive about?"

"Then you simply won't know."

She put on a pouting face and leaned closer to him.

"I guess someone isn't getting any more kisses then."

"Oh, a fate worse than death." he replied with his usual sarcasm. He resumed typing for a few more moments as she maintained her face. It was just too much to ignore. "Oh, alright. I tell you...when I'm done with all the research and present it to the team."

She gave him a look. Not annoyed, but not really pleased.

"Really? Fine. As long as I know soon...how soon exactly?"

"All this research is gonna take a while. Finding the combat history of a particular vehicle is pretty difficult."

"But you can do it, professor?"

The little joke drew a smile from him.

"I can. In time. Before the finals for sure," he assured, typing a bit faster. "By the way, is a certain someone still not getting kisses?"

He then felt soft lips pressed against his cheek.

"No, that punishment has been revoked."

_Later_

In the garage, the level of activity was steadily increasing as the finals match drew near. There was high energy in the air, mixed in with a nervousness. A nervousness whose strength and potency was something not felt in any of their previous matches. Valarie was with her friends at the T-44, doing their usual inspections. There was little to do in regards to maintenance. They've gotten rather good in that department, with Heather, of course, being the best of them all. By the end of their inspection, they've concluded it was in tip-top shape, as was the rest of the team's vehicles. Valarie had her hands on her hips as she stared at the machine.

"What's on your mind?" Emma asked her.

"A lot."

"Yeah, me too. Are we gonna get more tanks soon? People have been talking about it."

Valarie sighed deeply.

"We're not getting tanks anytime soon."

"What? But aren't we outnumbered?"

"We are. There's just isn't enough time to do anything about that."

"How so?" Buchanan said. She was walking around and happened to hear their conversation."

"Miss Buchanan," Valarie said, turning to look at her. "This team has had zero luck when it comes to acquiring new vehicles. There aren't any tanks in the Mojave at all. We got them all."

"Hey, what about your tankery captain friends?" Ashley interjected. "They gave us a vehicle before."

"I've contacted them all already. Bascom says they don't have any to spare. Oceanside gave us a SU-100 for free so it'd be greedy to ask for more. Valentine, again, says with the number of schools in Arizona, competition for tanks is too fierce for any to be leftover."

"What about, ah, Old Dominion? The school we went against in Montana," Buchanan asked. "Did you contact them?"

Everyone got a bit anxious now. Neither Redwood or Buchanan knew of how some members of Old Dominion sabotaged the T-44 and Jagdpanzer, along with their harassment of Ray. They can't know about it. They just can't. Thinking quickly, Valarie explained.

"Well, I never got their captain's number because... she and I were too busy, um, celebrating the end of a fun match. Yeah. That's what we were doing."

Buchanan looked at her for a moment with a perplexed expression.

"Oh. Well, that's alright. Now that I think of it, getting a tank all the way from Virginia would take too long to deliver," she said with a sigh. "Looks like what we got is what we got."

She walked off, still thinking about the situation. Once she was far enough way from hearing them, Heather went up to Valarie and eyed her up.

"Celebrations huh? I remember things going down quite differently.

"What did you want me to say? That everyone nearly started fighting? I could feel it in the air that such a thing could've happened. I don't want Miss Buchanan or Mister Redwood to know because if they do, it just reignites the drama. I'm putting my foot down on this issue. The drama between our team and Old Dominion's team is_ over_. Okay? I don't want to hear about it anymore."

"Fine," Heather responded, her voice restrained as if someone else was trying to goad her into saying something more. "But I think it would've been a great idea to use what they've done against us as leverage to get a free tank off them."

"That would be a great way to get them to hate us, Heather. I don't want that at all. We've beaten them despite all the things they've done to us. What more do you want?"

Heather looked like she was about to argue but at the last minute, decided otherwise. This wasn't worth it. In fact, this was one of the situations that she feared happening. She was terrified that she'd say something that would cause a rift in her friendship with Valarie, a rift large enough that perhaps cannot ever be repaired. The voice in her head demanded that she press the issue but, with great strength, resisted. She rubbed her forehead heavily.

"You're right Valarie. We won. That's better than anything we can do them. Sorry for making you uncomfortable."

"Thank you," Valarie replied with relief. "It's all in the past now. Let's focus on the finals."

"When are the finals? Did you already mention that? I'm zoning out here, sorry." Ashley asked.

"June 22nd. A day with some history behind that."

"Like what?"

"Operation Barbarossa launched on that date. The German invasion of the Soviet Union."

"Wait, it was in June?"

"Yeah?"

"So all those jokes about 'don't invade Russia in the winter' are bullshit?"

"Somewhat."

"Damn..."

"Any who, with that date in mind, we only have two more practices before the finals kick-off. We'll be spending that time continuing our jack-of-all-trades training."

"Oooh, love doing that training," Ashley said. "So, what are we doing right now?"

"Right now? Nothing much."

"Good, you don't mind if I have a late lunch, do you?"

"No, but you don't really have to ask for permission for that"

"You're cool, you know that, Val?"

Ashley raced off to her backpack and soon returned with a plastic tray.

"Whatcha got there?" Emma asked.

"Crab sushi rolls. Damn good. Does anyone want some? I got a lot of them."

Heather and Emma eagerly got some and ate them with glee. Valarie, though, stood to the side.

"Not hungry, Valarie?" Ashley questioned.

"I'm not a fan of crab. Like at all."

"Why not?"

"Crabs are the ugliest animals to ever be on this Earth. Gross sea bugs that the world would be better off if they all went extinct. My dad feels the same way. Little goblin bastards he'd call them."

"Well, this is imitation crab. Real crab sushi is too expensive."

"It doesn't matter if it's real or imitation, it still puts a picture of those ugly things in my mind."

"Suit yourself. More for us."

_Sunday_

Sunday has been a day a long time in the making. And one to remember for a lifetime. As they have planned, Redwood and Buchanan have gone off to spend the morning doing some hiking. He had told her to find a hike that ends in someplace scenic, who Buchanan was more than happy to oblige. Taking up hiking as a hobby for years, she already had a number of locations in mind, with the hardest choice picking just one of many viable candidates. After some intense contemplation, hiking up a nearby small mountain just screamed perfection.

"A mountain?" Redwood remarked with surprise.

"Oh please, it's not like your climbing Everest. It's not difficult at all."

"Well, if you say so. Are we ready then?"

"Mmm, just about. Thankfully the temperature today is only gonna be eighty degrees at the highest. That's fantastic weather for June. I just need to fill up my water bottle and I'll be all set. You got your stuff in order?"

Redwood reached into his pocket and felt for a small box, which was tucked safely within.

"I'm good to go."

With a bit more preparation undertaken, the two went into their car and drove to the hiking spot Buchanan had carefully selected. It was too far, just half an hour's drive from town. Reaching the parking lot, they noticed that they were the only car there.

"Looks like we'll be the only people here." Buchanan commented.

"Oh yeah? A hiking trail all for ourselves?"

"Yeah, it's perfect."

Perfect in more ways than one, Redwood thought to himself with satisfaction. They got out of the car, readied themselves, and got on the trail. The path gently rose in elevation as they progressed, well beaten as it hosted an untold number of hikers throughout the years. As they hiked higher, the temperature rose as well. But it remained comfortably warm, with the mercury not daring to rise past eighty degrees Fahrenheit. And even if someone considered eighty degrees to be too warm for them, the rolling clouds would have provided more than enough relief for them. Buchanan was ahead of him, being well experienced in such terrain, though Redwood was able to be right behind her. The trail was particularly difficult, however, for Redwood it did reveal for himself that he was more out of shape than he thought. He wasn't fat by any stretch, but respectfully lean, yet, a person didn't have to be fat to be out of shape. With a job requiring him being sat behind a desk for hours on end, it didn't really contribute to his athleticism. Buchanan, in contrast, was fit. When she was a recluse in her former apartment, she had totally lost track of time spending so long indoors that she decided to get a hobby that got her outside of her apartment. What she chose was hiking and has been at it for years, which yielded in a toned body. Physically, she was stunning, even at times she didn't feel beautiful on the account of the burn scars on her body. Most on her legs and some on her arms and hands, though not as profound. Redwood has playfully referred to them as her 'tattoos' which made her rethink her scars. She went from resenting them to being proud that they were a part of her. It made her the person she is.

"How are you holding up?" she asked him.

"Doing great. Hardly breaking a sweat over here."

"That's good to hear," Buchanan then turned to her right. They have progressed up the mountain considerably, which provided for a special view on the Mojave. "Wow, ain't that a wonderful sight?"

"It sure is. Even though it all just different shades of one color, there is a beauty to it."

They had started their hike at around eight in the morning and it was now ten. Two hours of walking has led them to the summit of the small mountain that they had conquered together. There, was a view of utter majesty. In all the directions they looked, was the Mojave at its full glory. In one direction was Barstow. Home. It wasn't a huge city, nowhere near in size to places like Los Angeles or Chicago, but still, from their view, the town dominated the landscape.

"This was well worth the walk," Buchanan remarked as she sat on a rock where nearby Joshua tree provided nice, cool shade. She was looking off into the distance as Redwood stood a few feet behind her. The moment was upon him. It was just the two of them on the top of a small mountain, with her totally none the wiser of what he was about to her. He cleared his throat and dug into his left pocket, withdrawing a small box. A wave of nervousness then hit him, causing him to sweat more than he did getting up here. He opened the box and saw the two rings, polished and ready. A deep breath. He closed the box quietly and looked toward Buchanan, still gazing out to the Mojave. If he stayed silent for too long, she'll get suspicious and turn around, which would spoil the moment he replayed in his mind again and again. The time was now. He walked up right behind her, hands behind his back, and started speaking.

"Gabby," he said, voice slightly shaky. She turned around to face him, still sitting on the rock. "The past several months have been absolutely amazing. With all the team's success and us...being together at last. We've loved each other since high school but only in recent times have we've been able to act on that emotion when we started dating. Gabby, you are a tough, confident, encouraging, and selfless person. My love for you is total. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

With that last sentence, Buchanan's eyes widened and glistened. She knew what was coming and couldn't believe that such a thing was actually happening.

"Martin! Are you, are you..?" she exclaimed but the final words couldn't come out as excitement gripped her. He got on one knee, where she then cupped her mouth her hands as she nearly screamed in joy.

"Gabrielle Buchanan, will you marry me?"

That was the question that she was dreaming about for ages, coming from the man she loved for just as long. Upon hearing it, she was motionless. Overwhelmed with so much joy that her mind couldn't decide what to do next. In Redwood's hand was the box, the two rings shining even under the shade. After the moment of jubilation subsided slightly, she slowly stood from the rock she was sitting on. She was trembling a bit. Her answer was clear.

"Yes...yes! I will, I will!" she nearly screamed. Redwood placed one of the rings on the finger that he had stealthily measured the other day. It fit perfectly. "Oh my god!" she said, looking at her ring. "Simple but elegant, I love it! I...can't believe this is happening!"

"Believe it, Gabby," he said warmly. He then passed her the other ring. "You know where that goes, don't ya?"

Holding it with glee, she held on to his left hand and put on his ring. They moved away from the shade and into the sunlight, taking a good look at their new jewelry as it reflected the rays.

"Engaged...wow!" she said with huge enthusiasm. "I'm your fiancée now...man...I'm still in shock!"

"I'm just...overwhelmed," Redwood remarked. They both were now hugging each other and exchanging kisses. "Now we gotta plan a wedding now, huh?"

"Mmm," she hummed. "How soon do people do that? I don't know the time frame."

"I've read that people get married a year after getting engaged."

"A year?" she said with some surprise. "I don't want to wait that long, but, uh, I don't want to do it so soon. I want to enjoy our engagement a little."

"Same here. How about, ah, we don't even think about wedding planning until at least after the national finals?"

"Sounds good to me!"

They hugged and kissed on top of the mountain for several more tender moments when they descended down, arms linked together. Reaching the bottom, the engaged couple drove back home, their joy beyond measure. Home, they showered up and enjoyed their time together. It was three in the afternoon now. The two were in their bedroom, cuddling. They weren't tired but with a highlight like being engaged, well, they took it easy on this Sunday afternoon. They were just talking, talking about their future.

"Where do you see us a year from now?" he asked her, caressing her hair.

"Well," Buchanan said, though there was a heavy hesitation in her voice. "I, uh...I see...god, I'm getting all flustered."

"Flustered, huh? What do you see?"

"A...bay..." she muttered but trailed off.

"Ah, sorry, but I didn't catch that."

"A-ha..." she said with nervous laughter. "It's getting really warm in here. Uhhh...one year from now I see us with...with...a...family."

"Family?" he said with some confusion but it only took a moment to figure out what she meant. "OH! You want...a baby?"

She placed her hands on her face and breathed deeply.

"Yes! I do!" she then yelled with huge energy. "I've wanted to start a family for so _long_! I have many dreams, Martin, one of which, you already know. Of how I wanted to go pro in tankery but that dream died when the ATA shuttered the professional league. Having a baby is another dream that I've had for nearly all my life. When I was younger, I expected to have a child in my late twenties. But now? I'm forty-three! Sometimes I think...am I too late?" she said as tears began to flow. "You know, I sometimes pretend the students on the team are my own kids. It's a bit weird, I know. It's another reason why I pushed for the safety rules...because I just can't bear to think about any of those students going through something as traumatic as I did. I guess it's that motherly instinct."

He rested his forehead against hers as he held her hand and squeezed it tight. It calmed her sniffling.

"Gabby, you would make a fantastic mother."

"But am I too late to actually be one? I'm old...not many women out there having babies in their forties." she said forlornly. "I feel like I missed my chance."

"Well," he said to her, nuzzling her neck. "There_ is_ only one way to find out for sure."

Their eyes were locked, both their cheeks tinted a deep shade of red. A hand was caressing the other's hair as they started kissing with intense passion, with their hands soon going to other places that demanded attention. For the rest of their Sunday, they spent their time together. This day will be a day that they would remember for the rest of their lives. Where together, they cemented their bond and love for each other. For an afternoon, their whole world was just each other, their attentions purely focused on the person they loved. A wonderful way to end an eventful Sunday.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no new additions to the team, Valarie is very stressed about the finals. Thankfully, she has a wonderful support network.

June 10th, 2013

Boston

"Everything is going swimmingly." Penelope remarked with huge satisfaction. She and Caroline were spending some time before school started at a nearby cafe, enjoying lattes.

"I know, right?" Caroline said. "The team is keeping their mouth shut, despite the overwhelming desire to share about the new little tank we have."

Penelope let out a little chuckle.

"Heh, there's nothing 'little' about our new machine."

"Mmmhmm. When that thing fired for the first time, I will never forget the team's expression. Just complete and utter awe. Almost everyone's mouth was open. And the power behind its gun is a sensation that still makes me tingle. Not to mention just how loud it is. Did you know some people called the police thinking a bomb went off?"

"A testament to just how powerful a gun it has," Penelope said with a grin. She took a sip of her latte and her expression changed to something more serious. "While nothing is guaranteed, I'm fairly confident we'll win the tournament."

"There is certainly a precedent."

"Yes, now let's assume we've won. We're now representing the U.S in the world tournament. We've been in that place twice before. And you remember how it ended both times."

Caroline ducked down her head.

"Yeah," she said with some sadness. "We never won the world tournament. Each time we participated in the competition, a Japanese team handed us defeats. The first time we lost, I was upset, but then, when we lost again to another Japanese team, I became irate."

"Do you remember the Japanese teams we fought against back then?"

"Not their names, no," Caroline said with a dismissive wave. "After the defeats, I've expunged them from my memory because remembering them gave me depression."

Penelope smiled softly.

"Mmm. Do you happen to remember when we met each of the Japanese team's leadership?"

"Oh, them? They, I will never forget. Interesting characters, just full of contrasts. At our first time, it was this short girl on the shoulders on another, taller, girl. She was very full of herself and just flat-out annoying. During her whole speech on how she'll crush us, the tall girl she was on just stayed mute. Weird."

"And what about the leadership of the next Japanese team we faced?"

"I don't like the captain of that team. She's intimidating and I don't know it's intentional or just a part of her character. She spoke stoically and her face was devoid of any and all emotion. Then you have her co-captain. Her sister, I think. All bubbly and actually smiled at us. That is who I want to meet again, not any of them else."

"If we win the nationals, we will meet them again on the world stage," Penelope said with determination. "And with our new machine, we will have our revenge."

Barstow

The school day had concluded and members of the Mojave Rose tankery team raced to the garage. As the finals approached, there were more things to do to prepare for the big day. Today, the commander's meeting was to be held. Ray and Valarie were in Room 34 getting everything ready.

"So, I've been doing something on the side that I think you'll like." Ray said.

"Oh? What's that?"

"I've researched and compiled the combat histories of the tanks on the team," he said as he showed her a flash drive. "Do you mind if I share that before we get down to strategy for the finals?"

"Uh, yeah? That sounds awesome!" Valarie said as she nodded with enthusiasm.

Soon, the team's commander's arrived and took their seats. Valarie stood at the front of the room.

"Today, we are going to go over strategy for the finals. though, first, Ray has been working on something that he is very excited to show off."

Ray was at a computer where he inserted his flash drive. In a few minutes, the projector on the ceiling came alive and displayed the fruits of his labor.

"For the past few days, I have been meticulously researching the combat histories of our vehicles," he told all the commanders in the room. "All nicely presented for your reading pleasure."

On the whiteboard being projected was a list of all the team's vehicles with a description underneath all of them.

T-44

100th Special Tank Company, Soviet Red Army.

No combat, only tested

"Well," Valarie remarked with disappointment. "I expected a bit more!"

IS-3

71st Guards Heavy Tank Regiment of the 2nd Guards Tank Army, Soviet Red Army.

Too late to see combat in WWII, participated in the Allied Victory parade in Berlin.

"Yeah uh, it was just in parades. Still pretty cool." Ray said.

M5 Stuart

70th Tank Battalion, United States Army.

Participated in Operation Husky, the invasion of Sicily.

"Yes!" Mia exclaimed. "My tank was in an invasion!"

234/2 Puma

2nd Panzer Division, Wehrmacht

Fought on both fronts of the war, participating in major engagements like Kursk and Normandy.

"Damn, the cat has been around." Aurora commented with curiosity.

ACIV Thunderbolt

Not part of any tank units

Australian tank that ended development before being mass-produced.

"I kinda already knew that. Nothing remarkable." Robin reacted.

Cromwell IV

King's Royal Hussars of the 11th Armored Division, British Army.

Part of the unit that made progress from the Allied landings at Normandy all the way to Germany. By war's end, unit captured 27 German generals.

"Wow! Twenty-seven! I expect nothing less from the Royal Hussars!" Sage said with glee.

VK 30.02M

Not part of any tank units.

Part of a design contest for the next German medium tank. VK 30.02M would eventually become the Panther.

"I'm noticing a trend here," Marielle noted. "Tanks either have war stories to tell or none at all."

SU-100

1st Guards Tank Army of the 1st Belorussian Front, Soviet Red Army

In major engagements in the Eastern Front, with it actually fighting in the streets of Berlin.

"God, that's badass. The thing was where the war ended." Nora said.

SU-14-2

Separate Heavy Division for Special Purposes, Soviet Red Army.

Self-propelled gun prototype that saw some action in the Winter War and was hastily used in the Defense of Moscow.

"Glad that school bus actually some combat. I bet it scored some great hits as we do." Jacqueline said.

T26E4 Super Pershing

3rd Armored Division, United States Army

Was the only Super Pershing in Europe, seeing limited combat.

"Ah," Louise sighed. "If only it was put into service just a bit earlier to wreck Tigers and Panthers. Oh well."

M4A3E2 Sherman Jumbo

743rd Tank Battalion, United States Army.

Saw combat from Normandy to Germany. All units with Jumbos suffered massive casualties.

"Wish it was the Cobra King." Haley said, hand holding up her head.

Panther II

Not part of any tank units.

Was only a prototype that never went into production.

"I wasn't expecting anything." Paige remarked.

At the very bottom of the list was Natalie's vehicle, which upon reading, learned very quickly why it was last.

Jagdpanzer IV/70

9th SS Panzer Division, Waffen-SS

Saw battle in both fronts in Europe, from Tarnopol to the Battle of the Bulge.

Natalie had her face on the table.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said, her voice muffled.

"Yeeah, that was interesting to read about." Ray said sympathetically.

"There is a question in my mind that I do not want to know the answer to," she said, massaging her temple. "Well, uh, Ray, that was very nice. Let's, ah, move on please?"

"Of course." he said, ending the presentation. A few keystrokes and the projector was now showing the map of the battlefield. He gave Valarie a nod where she then took control of the meeting.

"Alright," she said grabbing a pointing stick. "Here's the situation. The national finals will be taking place in New Jersey in a forested area some miles south from the nearest town, Country Lake Estates. This battlefield will be the most varied we'll see thus far. The ATA has extensively altered the field of play to make it as interesting as possible. They have built a mock European-style town in the northwest of the area, with other buildings dotted around the battlefield, bridges, and tunnels in the larger hills. Streams, lakes, and ponds are also present. Had the situation been different, the plan would have been that we'd make a beeline for the town to set up a defensive position. But things are different. I've already mentioned that the finals will be an elimination match. There is no flag tank. The first team to completely eliminate the other wins. Also, our opponent, Molly Pitcher, outnumbers us and most definitely has analyzed our performance in our previous matches. With that in mind, here is the strategy that I came up with. Upon the start of the match, we will form a wide line, with Nomad and Mirage will form the far left and right flanks respectively. Our heaviest armored tanks, Juniper and Jackalope, will be the center of the line, followed by our medium tanks, then the tank destroyers. Sierra will always be behind us by three miles to provide support. With how long our line is, any attempt to outflank us will be spotted. Once the line has been formed, we're going on the attack."

"On the offensive?" Natalie interjected. "When we have fewer tanks then them?"

"They outnumber us by over ten tanks. If we, say, go to the town and defend it as we did in Montana, it's gonna be our last stand. I've researched Molly Pitcher and learned just how many tanks they have. Sixty in total"

All of the commanders were inundated with shock. How was it possible for one tankery team to have so many vehicles at their disposal? Everyone quickly came to terms that Molly Pitcher must be a wealthy school, a fact that made some more uneasy about the national finals.

"Sixty tanks," Valarie repeated. "And only twenty-five of them will be in the match. The main thing is, what twenty-five? From the pictures I've seen on the internet, Molly Pitcher has Churchills, Comets, Jagdpanthers, Ferdinands, Tigers, Panthers, and more. And that is just what I can find online. We will only know what they are putting out in the field when they fire at us. For them, our roster is already completely known. They will choose their tanks accordingly to best compete."

"So, they have the element of surprise and we don't?" Louise asked.

"Pretty much. Though, I would hazard a guess that they'd bring heavier tanks to match our IS-3 and Super Pershing and some fast movers to get at our artillery. With us going on the offensive, hopefully, it'll catch them off guard as they won't expect a smaller force to be so bold. We do our damage and pull back before they can reform to attack. We'll scatter into the forest and, well, do guerrilla warfare and whittle them down."

Valarie took a moment to look at the map being projected in silence before taking in a deep breath.

"Well, that's the plan. I'll be reviewing it more right up till the match starts. If they are any changes, I'll be sure to let you all now. For now, just get real familiar with the map of the battlefield. We can never know where we need to go next."

The end of her sentence marked the end of the meeting. All the commanders, save for Ray, left the room to return to the garage. He walked and stood next to her as they both looked at the map.

"This is going to be a hard match, isn't it?" he asked.

Valarie didn't respond. She just kept looking at the map. Ray gently shook her shoulder.

"Val?"

"I worried about the match."

"Aren't we all worried before matches?"

"I feel like I'm more worried than I should be."

"Well, it is the finals."

"I know. But, I feel...sick."

"If you're worried to a point till your sick, then yes, you are too worried. You need to relax or something. There are twelve days from now until the match. You don't need every waking moment between now and then working on the strategy."

"Yeah...I'll make some time to relax and unwind a little."

"You definitely need that."

They cleaned up the room and went back to the garage. The meeting was coming to close as people were just finishing up their tasks for the day. In the garage's office, Redwood and Buchanan were talking about something very personal.

"So...you, uh, noticed anything different?" he asked her with some anxiousness.

"Um...no. Not yet."

"Should you take a pregnancy test?"

"It's too early for that. The first symptoms will come up within a few weeks after conception and it hasn't even been a full day since," she paused to think about how to phrase it. "Well, you know. You were there."

They were both blushing.

"Yeah...I played my part."

"And you played it very well."

Redwood buried his face into his hands, his laughter being muffled.

"Good. Lord," he uttered under his breath. "Gabby, you're gonna kill me."

She shot him a huge grin.

"Now, on to business." Buchanan reminded.

"Yes, yes. Business" Redwood said with relief. He headed on over to the computer desk and got to work.

"The match is all the way in New Jersey so by Wednesday of next week, we'll ship the vehicles there by train so that they'll be ready for us when the team gets there."

"Good. And we are flying there again?"

"Yep, we are."

"Yep. The ATA this time around is covering the cost of airfare and hotels because it is the finals."

"Now that is nice of them," she remarked with a smile. Then she looked down for a moment in thought. "You know, if we win, we'll be in the world tournament. We'll be flying all the time going to different countries for the matches."

"God," he remarked with a groan. "Everyone will be constantly jetlagged. And how will their education work? They're still students at the end of the day. I don't have too much faith in remote learning."

As Redwood fretted, Buchanan went around the desk and sat on his lap, hugging him tightly.

"If we cross that bridge, we'll figure it out. And, hey, you never know where the solution can come from. It can just pop outta nowhere."

Outside the office, among the vehicles, the T-44 crew were coming to the end of their tasks. Heather was kneeling by one of the track segments, testing its tension.

"You've been at that for half an hour," Ashley commented. "It's as tight as it'll ever be."

"But it can't be too tight..." Heather replied.

She worked a bit more, fiddling with the track segment when she then stood up and stretched.

"Now it's okay." she said, yawning.

"Looks like someone didn't get enough sleep."

"No," Heather attempted to refute but another yawn betrayed her. "Alright...I'm tired. Real tired. I was up till one in the morning watching videos."

"Till one? What were you watching?"

"Ah, that tank Valarie talked about when the team went camping. The Prinz Oskar."

"That German tank almost a hundred years old?"

"Yeah, I've been watching video after video about its theft."

"Man, Heather, after a while wouldn't you be just hearing the same things again and again?"

"The story is...captivating. I've also watched videos of people giving their theories about what happened to it after it was stolen. There. Is. So. Many. Theories."

"Hmm, let me guess, some of them talk about it was taken by aliens and the tank, right now, is on another planet in a galaxy billions of lightyears away?"

"Wow! Did we see the same video?"

Ashley rubbed her forehead.

"Heather. I was joking, but now learning that people actually believe that stuff, I need a moment to rethink humanity as a species and if it has a right to continue."

"Now, I'll admit, that theory is a bit outlandish."

"A bit?"

"MmmHmm, but I, personally, do not believe it."

"Thank God."

"I do believe that the Prinz Oskar is not in this country, though."

"What makes you think that?"

"A video I watched gave compelling evidence. You see, around the same time the thieves flatbed truck was found abandoned by the police, a cargo ship known to have been operated by an organized gang made a sudden departure from the Port of South Louisiana. This ship, the Hyperborea, moved rapidly across the Atlantic toward Europe at speeds unusual for cargo ships."

"Well, that's a hell of a lot more convincing than an alien abduction. So, you think the Prinz Oskar was on that ship blitzing toward Europe?"

"Yep. Though after that, who knows?"

Meanwhile, inside the turret of the T-44, Emma and Valarie were together not doing any work at all. As if there was much to be done in the interior anyway. Emma held her girlfriend in her arms as they just quietly talked about the big day coming their way.

"I can feel how tense you are," Emma commented as she rubbed her shoulders. "The finals dominate your mind, huh?"

"Total domination," Valarie answered with a sigh. "Not only is it the national finals, but we haven't been able to find a new vehicle to even the odds, even if only a little."

Emma began to play with Valarie's hair.

"Sounds like it's high time for another date. Let's have one, say, this Sunday?"

"Oh, yes!" Valarie exclaimed with glee. "Another date! That'll be lovely! But do what exactly?"

"Mmm, how about a picnic at the park?"

Valarie's eyes lit up like floodlights.

"A picnic sounds perfect!"

"A perfect way to end not only the week but also the semester."

"Oh my God, I completely forgot we're in our last week."

The school semester was coming to a close. For the seniors of the school, they are all eagerly looking forward to their own big day; graduation. Thankfully for the Mojave Rose tankery team, they weren't any seniors a part of their team so there won't be any sudden departures. The team will remain cohesive for the time being.

"When the next semester starts in August," Emma continued. "We'll be juniors. One grade closer to being seniors and then graduating ourselves! Ahhh. Soon. Very soon, we'll be looking at colleges."

"College," Valarie echoed. "Tuition for places like that seems like they are only getting more expensive. I may go the community college route because that is less taxing on my family's finances. There is nothing wrong with going to community college, right?"

"No? Not at all. Whatever path you choose, I will support and be with you. You're not going alone." Emma assured.

They held hands, squeezing them tightly, and were gazing into the other's eyes.

"I love you." Valarie said gently.'

"I love you too."

The young couple kissed within the confines of the T-44, cuddling as they did. The meeting for that day soon came to an end. All the members were dismissed and went home for the day.

Sunday

June 16th

The academic semester of Mojave Rose High School has come to a close and summer vacation has officially begun. It was the time of year every student across the nation looked forward too. A time where instead of studying, they actually do things they want to do. Fun things like going out or staying in because the heat is too brutal. On this day, the temperature was comfortably warm for this time of year. More than perfect weather if people wanted to out and have a picnic. For Valarie and Emma, that is precisely what they planned on doing. They were particularly jubilant on this day. Not only was it the start of their vacation, but they have ended the semester with them passing all of their final exams for their classes. Valarie was especially joyful in passing her chemistry final, something she had doubts in. When she got her grade and saw a 'B' on it, she nearly jumped to the Moon. With good vibes bountiful, the picnic felt like a reward, a reward that was well-deserved. The two girls arrived at the park separately, with Valarie arriving first and walking around a bit, eyes sharp for her girlfriend. Clouds peacefully danced across the pale-blue sky, occasionally covering the sun which for a few moments plummeted the area in a soothing shade. There was also a gentle breeze in the air. Enough to make the branches of the trees sway with a cool rhythm, though not enough to become too much of a nuisance. A nice balance, generating a scene of tranquility. Soon, coming over a hill, she saw her. Wearing a white sundress that Valarie immediately fell in love in. Emma was carrying the quintessential picnic basket that looked like it was plucked right out of some television show.

"You look absolutely stunning." Valarie complimented. She herself was wearing denim overall shorts, with a pale blue shirt right under it.

"You look pretty darn good yourself." Emma said with a warm tone.

The exchanging of compliments drew blushes from both of them.

"Well then, what did you pack in that basket of yours?" Valarie then asked.

"Let's find a nice spot first, shall we?"

They walked together around the park looking for a suitable spot for their date. Looking on top of a hill, there was a solitary tree with long branches that sprawled in all directions. With the breeze, the branches moved like it was beckoning them to come to it. They did the polite thing and accepted the tree's invitation. Walking up the hill, they enjoyed just how cool the shade was. Emma opened her basket and placed a white-and-red plaid blanket on top of the grass. Sitting down, she dug into her picnic, with Valarie watching with anticipation. She got a paper plate wrapped in tinfoil. Unwrapping it revealed to be hand-made club sandwiches, cut into quarters. Looking closely, she saw that the colors of the vegetables were sharp, a clear indication that they were fresh. Handed the food, Valarie took a bit and hummed with satisfaction.

"Emma, wow, did you make this yourself?"

"I did," she responded with a proud smile. "I spent way too long making sure I cut all the vegetables as perfectly as I can."

"Nothing wrong with a labor of love."

They ate their sandwiches, each bite a delight. Emma then got out a bag of salt and vinegar chips, a flavor that they both loved. It made them quite thirsty though, and Emma happened to bring something that can quench that first like nothing else. She reached into her basket and retrieved two champagne glasses. When Valarie was handed hers, it felt cool to the touch.

"Oooh, are we sampling the finest vintage from France?" she joked.

Chuckling, Emma got out a bottle that has been all nestled in a pile of ice to make it as refreshing as possible.

"Sparkling apple cider. Non-alcoholic because I'm not brave enough to swipe actual champagne from my parent's cabinet."

"Ah, don't sweat it. I don't even want to think about coming home to my parents and them seeing me in a buzz. I'll be in my room for the rest of my life."

Sharing a laugh, Emma poured Valarie and drink and then herself. The rose their glasses in the air.

"To us, to our love, and to a summer to remember." Emma declared.

"Can't have said it any better myself."

They clinked their glasses and downed their drinks in own motion. Wanting more, they just drank out of the bottle, taking turns, until it was completely empty of the sweet, carbonated beverage. With their meal done, Valarie rested her head on Emma's lap so that she could run her fingers through her hair, a sensation that she adored. This date was exactly the thing she needed to get her mind clear and refreshed. For she'll need her mind sharp and focused for this Saturday. June 22nd. Eyes across the country and from the world at large will be watching on that day, eager to see who will proclaim victory after tons of steel clash in a climactic fashion. A battle that will demand everyone to perform at their best, to push themselves to points where they never thought they could go. Faces will be covered with sweat, dirt, and soot, and bruises will be received, and perhaps, blood will be drawn. The final match of the American National Tankery Tournament, a day no one thought when the tournament started they'd even reach, was now upon them. Outnumbered but not outmatched, the Mojave Rose team is ready. Whether victory or defeat awaits them, no one knows. Only one thing's for sure; it'll be a match to remember.


	41. Mojave Rose v. Molly Pitcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's wet. It's windy. But the blast from the guns keeps them warm. The national finals kicks off!

June 22nd, 2013

County Lake Estates, New Jersey

The sky was various shades of gray, not a speck of the familiar blue could be seen. Thunder cracked high in the heavens as lightning bolts streaked across the sky, occasionally striking the ground in a spectacular fashion. Though summer had just begun, instead of the characteristic hot weather, on this day in New Jersey, a storm had rolled in, bringing down the temperature to a cool level as the storm rained incessantly. It wasn't a downpour, but enough rain to drench anyone if they stood outside for several minutes. At this small town in New Jersey, its population has swelled as people from all over gather for the national finals. Both teams that are to participate in the match have arrived in town the day before. In the early hours of this Saturday morning, people were just starting to wake up and prepare for the day ahead of them. In a motel, Redwood, like most other motel inhabitants, was sleeping. A cross-country flight wore him down, as it did everyone else. In bed, he moved his arms about feeling for a spot in the bed that should've been occupied. This emptiness caused him to wake up. Reaching for his glasses on the nightstand, he wore them and looked at the bed. Buchanan wasn't in the bed him, sparking his curiosity which only lasted for a brief period of time as he then heard a groan coming from the bathroom. Getting up, he quickly went to investigate, and there, he saw his wife-to-be, hugging the toilet bowl.

"Are you sick?" he asked, kneeling down next to her to pull her hair back away to keep it clean.

"A...kind of sickness. Not from any flu, that I can guarantee. This one is different" she replied, voice strained. Her breath was long and drawn out, and from the sound of them, took a lot of effort to perform. She carefully stood up from her position, and helped by Redwood, walked back to the bedroom.

"If you're not sick from some flu, then that would have to mean..."

Buchanan turned toward him, showing a huge smile. No one in the world would be happy waking suddenly in the morning because they felt incredibly nauseous and had to be hunched over a toilet. Unless, of course, it was the tell-tale sign of greater things to come. There wasn't any doubt in her mind as to why she was feeling this way. She wasn't too old after all.

"I'm pregnant." she said. Her voice started to crack as the gravity of the statement hit and sunk into her. Redwood immediately picked her up and twirled her around. They were both overcome with joy, laughing, and crying happy tears.

"Oh my god. It's happening!" he exclaimed. "Oh! But we need to take a test to be sure!"

"Oh, yeah, we are taking a test! We'll do that after the match, though. We got some things to take care of before it kicks off."

"Mmmhmm, but for now...let's just relax for a minute," Redwood said, pulling her down to the bed with him. The couple was in each other's arms. Redwood couldn't resist himself from touching and caressing her stomach. "I'm going to take a guess and say that the half a million you saved was for a baby."

She didn't say any words, just hummed her answer.

"Thought so," he replied. "Wow, Gabby, there's planning ahead, then there's planning ahead."

They spent some time in bed in total comfort when Buchanan then glanced toward the clock.

"It's time to get ready. We got some pre-match things to take care of," she said, getting up from the bed and quickly got out of her sleepwear and into something appropriate for the weather. Then she went into her bag and got out a folder. Within were the memos she had used to 'persuade' the ATA to do the right thing. She folded the paper and stashed them in the inner pockets of her jacket. "Alright, let's head out."

Elsewhere in the motel, in numerous rooms, the Mojave Rose tankery team were all awake and in the process of getting ready. In one of these rooms, was the T-44 crew. Valarie was the first to wake. She didn't feel overly anxious about today. Though there was still a good amount of that emotion as it was the national finals, an event that instills anxiousness by its nature. She was already fully dressed in her uniform and was looking at herself in the mirror. Her uniform was thoroughly cleaned back home so that it would look at its best. Though she knew it'll get dirty by the day's end. Gazing in the mirror, she was checking herself to ensure that everything was nice and proper. The shirt and pants portions of her uniform fit snug, with the cuffs of her pants stuffed into her puts, the style she preferred. Her eyes moved to her neck, where her choker was. It's metal as neat as ever as she polished them recently. She was ready. Physically and mentally. She turned to see the rest of her crew in the midst of getting dressed. She quickly averted her gaze to a wall, using her hand to block her eyes.

"Valarie, come on, this is just like getting dressed in the locker room for gym." Ashley remarked.

"It's just not polite to stare..."

"Hey. I won't complain."

"Just finish getting ready."

"Fine, fine."

After a minute, Valarie peaked her eyes and was glad to see her crew all dressed and ready.

"Okay!" she said, clapping her hands together. "Today is a huge day, though you all already know that. The national finals. How do you all feel?"

"A little nervous but also excited! And it's raining too, I love it!" Emma noted

"I don't know what is gonna happen, all I know is that today is gonna be a fun day." Ashley shared.

"I've been looking forward to this. I just hope the other team has no artillery."

"Same here, Heather," Valarie said. She then got her helmet and tucked it between her arms. "The team will be meeting in the lobby. Let's go."

The four of them left their room and descended on a nearby stairwell to the motel lobby. There, was the rest of the team, eager and nervous. Buchanan stood in front of them all and got their attention.

"All the things you have done have led to this moment," she told them. "Whatever happens today, I just want all of you that Mister Redwood and I are supremely proud of you all. Making to the finals of a national tournament, in any sport, in your first try is an achievement on its own. Winning it? Well, that would be pretty damn cool too! Now. Everyone. To the bus. The match will be starting soon."

Some miles south of the town they were staying in was where the match would take place. An area that the ATA has carefully selected and curated. A section of the New Jersey forest that offered a bit of everything. Clearings artificially created to give the appearance of valleys, bridges, tunnels, and the mock town that can provide ample opportunities to exploit. In no other match setting does the ATA go to such lengths. Only for the finals as that is when the ratings are at their highest, so might as well make everything like good. As such, the spectator's area, too, is much more extravagant. A massive field of tents, with the biggest one, slated to host the victory ceremony. There is two hours before the match begins and already is the area filled to the brim with people. Among the crowd, two girls are walking with purpose. One of them, visibly eager. She has been waiting for this day for months.

"Words cannot begin to describe just how excited I am for this day!" Madison exclaimed with the utmost glee. Slung around her shoulder was a messenger bag carrying important contents.

"The national finals," Alice said. "The offer for the winning school is with you, yeah?" she asked, pointing to the bag."

"Indeed it is. Though, you and I both know which school we really want to win."

"Yes, Mojave Rose. Them not winning would complicate that plan of yours."

"Mmm. I'd rather not entertain that thought. I've told you before that—"

"That you have a good feeling about them," Alice interrupted. "I know. I have it too. Now, which tent are we in again?"

"Ah, I dunno, I think it was—"

"Madison Force!"

The voice that called her name made her wince as if she was stabbed with a rusted saber. A voice that assaulted her ears and left the taste of the most bitter venom in her mouth.

"O merciful God, I pray to you that is not who I think it is," Madison uttered but turning to where the voice originated confirmed her fears. "Damn it all. It's Juliana."

"Oh, Christ." Alice moaned.

Juliana walked over to them both. Her hair was the color of the finest artisan chocolate done in a crown braid. Her school uniform just oozed preppiness. Top portion akin to a business-suit, bottom portion a red-and-black plaid skirt. Her hands were at her hips as she looked at them with a smug face.

"Fancy see you two at a place like this. Last I recall, Catalina has nothing to do with the sport of tankery. Which should stay that way. The sport has been defiled enough as it is. We can't have such a subpar school further lower its reputation."

"Subpar!?" Madison exclaimed. "What 'subpar' school can boast to have world-famous musicians, authors, and artists as part of their alumni!"

"Mmm. That's cute, I suppose. Do your alumni include people who gone on to be prime misters, business leaders, and Nobel laureates in the sciences? You know. People who actually make the world turn."

"You and your irrational disdain for the arts," Madison said to her. "Your school is the only one I'm aware of that has done away completely with its Humanities department. I cannot imagine a worse school that any student can attend."

"Instead of wasting resources on philosophy or, heh, Shakespeare, my school can devote all of its energies to produce students exceedingly qualified for careers in STEM and government. What's wrong with that?"

"I'm not against that in general, but the way your school goes about things is horrid. Purely mechanical with the human soul totally absent, no, removed. Anyway, why the hell are you here? Golden Gate Institute of Technology doesn't operate a tankery team either."

"And what did you mean by 'defile'?" Alice asked.

"It's true. Golden Gate does not have a tankery team and nor has any plans to form one for the foreseeable future. And yes, admittedly, I have not expressed much interest in the sport. That is, not until today."

"Go on."

"I have, ah, 'disdain' as you've put it, against the arts," Juliana said with a chuckle. "But when it comes to athletics, I'm all for it. Not only does it keep the body healthy, but it also creates and reinforces the concept of teamwork, which is very important in things like STEM. I was in Trenton the previous day on school business, overseeing a science fair when I then learned of the national finals. I thought, might as well come and see and learn more about the sport. Not long after I arrived, I made a friend with a girl from Virginia."

"Aw, how cute. You made a widdle friend!" Madison mocked.

"Well, aren't you mature? I can't believe we're the same age. Now, this friend I made brought me up to speed with all the happenings going on in the sport. And let me tell you, it's in dire straits."

"Dire? What do you mean?" Madison questioned

"Ah, Madison. I guess I assumed too much. You do know that one of the teams in the finals is problematic?"

After thinking about it for a moment, she figured where Juliana was going at.

"You're referring to Mojave Rose and the fact that their team is a coed one."

"Slow to realizing the problem, as per usual," Juliana insulted. "I always knew tankery was a female sport, but my new friend taught me why it's important that it remains a female-only sport."

"So, what are you and your new friend going to do? Sabotage Mojave Rose?"

"No, no. We will be spending our time networking with other people in tankery around here. I'm confident we'll find and become acquainted with like-minded people. Have a good day, you two."

Juliana walked away, her face annoying smug. Once far enough away, Madison could speak much more freely.

"Bitch. She has hated me ever since I gave her a defeat at our fencing match. And she says I'm not mature? Give me a break."

"It wasn't just any defeat, but a total humiliation. She didn't score a single point on you. Anyway, forget about her," Alice comforted, pulling her arm toward one of the tents. "This day is supposed to be a happy day. Don't let her soil it."

Madison took a deep breath.

"Let who soil it?" she said with a grin.

"That's the spirit!" Alice said with joy. She took a peek at her watch. "Oh! One hour until the action starts! Let's get to our seats and get comfy."

At their starting area, the Mojave Rose Tankery team are in their vehicles, awaiting the signal for the match to start. The rain had turned to a drizzle, nonetheless, Valarie and the other commanders remained in their tanks to stay as dry as they can. Their starting area was a clearing in the forest, so circular that it looks out of place. In her tank, Valarie had her eyes glued to the map. Giving the strategy one last review before the green light. She activated her radio.

"You are all aware of the plan. Follow it and if any problems come up, we'll handle them. I've told you all before but I'll say it again and keep saying it. The only thing I expect is your best," Ahead of the team, an official rose her starting pistol in the air and fired. "Panzer Vor!"

The team advanced. The finals have begun. Forming the long line as they have planned, Mojave Rose drove on toward Molly Pitcher's starting area. In a matter of moments, they have left the clearing and were now in the forest. Trees seemed to go on forever, with the team working constantly to maintain their line as they go around the vegetation. As a result of the ongoing storm, the grass was drenched which proved to complicate things as the ground had turned to mud, slowing down the team. Though not enough to make the current plan unfeasible. At respectable speeds, the team pressed on. Their guns were loaded and fingers were on the triggers. The gunners had their eyes on the sights, ready to fire on command. Yet, an hour goes by with no enemy vehicles detected by anyone. Curious, Valarie, again, checked the map.

"Hmm. Where could they be," she mused. "Guess we keep going. We'll face them soon enough."

They continued driving for several more minutes when they then arrived at the shore of a lake. It wasn't a huge body of water. At most, one mile across. From their position, they could see all the raindrops hit the surface of the lack, making for a mesmerizing scene.

"Hold on a second," Sage reported over the radio. "I think I see something," She ordered her gunner to rotate the turret to the anomaly she had spotted. Examining it close with her scopes, she saw some object making a mess with it crushing bushes and knocking over smaller trees. Sighting a turret, confirmed her suspicious and kicked her anxiousness into high gear.

"Enemy tank spotted! At our, uh...nine o'clock!"

The second her message was received, all the guns on the team turned toward that direction. Soon, what Sage saw became clear. A Ferdinand tank destroyer. The first of Molly Pitcher's vehicles spotted by the team. The vehicle moved from the forest and stopped at the lakeshore opposite of them. The gun was moving about like it was searching for something, then the whole vehicle rotated to face the team.

"We've been spotted," Valarie said. "Jackalope, take a shot at that Ferdinand. You got the best gun to take it out."

"Copy that." responded Louise.

The Super Pershing took aim at the Ferdinand, which was looking at another vehicle at the team.

"Perfect, they aren't even looking at us!"

"Target acquired." reported Jocelyn

"Fire!"

The first shot of the match has been delivered. It traveled across the lake faster than it took Germany to conquer France, and hit the Ferdinand, but the round just shattered against its tough front armor.

"A hit but no cigar!" Louise remarked.

"With a gun like this, I didn't expect the round to have no effect." Jocelyn commented.

"Something tells me we're gonna have a lot of those moments today. Still, another shell! Hit 'em again!"

"Scratch that order!" Valarie commanded. "We got more incoming...man it's the rest of their team!"

The rest of Molly Pitcher has arrived to back up its Ferdinand. They too have formed a line, and since they have the number's advantage, it was clearly longer than Mojave Rose's. It unsettled them. Guns of various calibers from tanks of different nations, aiming in their direction.

"If we stay and fight, we'll just get picked off one by one," Valarie told them all. The rain then increased in intensity, with thunder and lightning becoming more frequent and closer. She had to yell to get her orders across. "Everyone! We're going to do a fighting withdrawal! Reverse at full speed while firing at the enemy. Doesn't matter if you miss, shooting them will rattle them enough to miss themselves! Once we've backed-up enough, we'll shoot smoke shells in all directions and, together, head east at full speed. Copy?"

Everyone responded in the affirmative and immediately complied with their orders. The team put their vehicles in the reverse gear and began their retreat, shooting as they did. The distance, combined with their movement, made all their shots highly inaccurate but knocking out the enemy wasn't the express purpose. But to put stress on them causing them to miss. Molly Pitch unleashed multiple volleys of fire into Mojave Rose's ranks but none found their mark. Some of Molly Pitcher's vehicles were nervous about getting hit by a stray shell and were themselves moving around the returning fire. Penelope, inside her Comet, saw Mojave Rose reverse where they then fired smoke shells, shrouding them from view. When the smoke cleared, they were long gone.

"Interesting," she remarked. "How's that for a first engagement?"

"A waste of ammunition is what that is," Caroline complained. She was in her King Tiger right next to Penelope. "No casualties were sustained on either side. Hell, the only hit was on our Ferdinand that that did nothing."

"Hmm," Penelope hummed. "Tell me, Caroline, has Lilith reached her position now?"

"I've just checked in with her a minute ago. She's ready and waiting."

"Splendid," Penelope said with delight. "We'll need to draw them in to spring our little surprise. We're going to break up into three groups. I'm lead Group 'A' to hunt down and get Mojave Rose to follow us to Lilith's position. Caroline, I want you to lead Group 'B' to the town. You're gonna be our reserves in case things go south."

"It won't. But I shall follow your orders to the letter!"

"Now, Mavis, you're relatively new but you've impressed me with your actions in our Ohio match. Lead Group 'C', which is all four of our light tanks, to find and locate Mojave Rose's SU-14. Do not eliminate it though. Just observe. It'll become clear as things progress."

"Copy that, captain! We're off!" Mavis responded enthusiastically. Her Panzer II Luchs sped off along with the rest of Molly Pitcher's light tanks.

"Why not eliminate their artillery the moment Mavis's group finds them?" Caroline questioned.

"Hammer and anvil." Penelope simply replied.

"Excuse me?"

"A tactic employed and used with brutal efficiency by Alexander the Great. Group 'A', once it leads Mojave Rose to Lilith, will be caught in an engagement. Once I am confident that they're committed to the fight, I'll order Mavis's group to eliminate the SU-14 and then they race to hit the enemy from behind. If all goes well, we'll secure the victory."

"Outstanding!" Caroline complimented.

"Thank you, thank you. Now. You all have your orders. Execute them."

The remainder of Molly Pitcher split, with Penelope and Caroline leading their own contingents. The weather was on no one's side. The rain and wind have only continued to strengthen. All the branches in all the trees swayed heavily as they defiantly resisted the gusts of wind hellbent on snapping them. With thunder and lightning now becoming a constant presence, it was clear to all that this wasn't a regular storm but something more. Miles from them, the Mojave Rose team stopped at a position in a section of the forest to deduce their next course of action.

"I've never seen so much rain in my life." Ashley commented in awe.

"Ah! It's what I thought!" Emma remarked. She was looking at her phone checking on the weather. "What we're in right now is the outer edges of a tropical storm just off the Jersey shore."

"Oh. Swell."

"If this team can manage being suddenly caught in a sand storm, then we should have no problem dealing with some rain and wind." Valarie said.

"What if the tropical storm becomes a hurricane?" Heather questioned. "Wouldn't the high winds be risky?"

"If it does turn into a hurricane, we're far enough inland to be spared from its more destructive effects. Besides, no wind, no matter how powerful, can't topple over a tank."

"The wind speeds of Neptune begs to differ." Mia suddenly said over the radio.

"Eh? Were you listening to us the whole time?!" Emma demanded.

"Yup. Everyone was."

The rest of the team sounded off over the radio, all confirming they were listening.

"How...how long were you all listening?" Valarie asked.

"Long enough to that you and Emma are a couple. So cute! Anyway, Valarie, a piece of advice, you've been on a hot mike for a good long while now. I'd pay special attention to your radio settings." Mia suggested.

Valarie quickly twisted a dial on the radio which silence everyone's voices, who were trying their damnedest not to giggle. Both her and Emma were beet red.

"Well, um" she said, clearing her throat. "That's...that's a little embarrassing."

"No kidding..." Emma remarked as she scratched the back of her head.

"Excuse me, ladies," Heather spoke up. "I believe there is a match going on."

"Right," Valarie uttered with a long drawl. She turned to the radio and modified the settings so that she'll never have a 'hot mike' moment again. Once satisfied, she twisted the same dial as before and now could hear the team again, some still cracking jokes about the whole situation.

"That's enough guys. Let's focus on the task at hand. We are in the finals after all!"

They all hushed down and listened to what their captain had to say.

"Now, referring to the map, there is a part of the battlefield where the forest stops and this huge clearing begins There is a good hill to hunker down on. We'll have a commanding view of what's in front of us so when Molly Pitcher arrives, we'll be able to get some shots off before they do. Drive on!"

Once again, the team was on the move. Minutes of driving, dodging trees, and other natural obstacles as the storm continued to drop what seems to like oceans-worth of water onto the earth, where then, the forest abruptly ceased and they were now in the clearing. The hill mentioned by Valarie was spotted and its top soon occupied by them. They didn't have to spend too long on the hill when Molly Pitcher soon made their arrival.

"That's them," Ray noted. "Coming straight for us."

"Hmm," Valarie hummed. "There's less of them. That's curious..." She had her hand on her chin as she was awash with thought, eyes squinted. "Acacia and Arroyo, head to Sierra. Be their guards for now. I sense a flank."

"Roger that, we're on our way." Marielle responded.

The ACIV and VK broke off and drove toward their artillery companion. The line was reformed to fill the gaps they have made. The enemy tanks they have spotted continued their advance where they then halted, guns raised and opened fire. Explosives peppered the top of the hill, though Mojave Rose emerged unscathed, though some shots did come awfully close. The desert school returned fire though Molly Pitcher already moved from their previous position, reversing, yielding more misses. Counting them, Valarie learned that there were only eight tanks below them. She decided to take the risk.

"Tanks on the hill, we're charging down it. We have the numbers advantage this time around, so let's use it while we can!"

Mojave Rose drove forward, off the top of the hill, and racing down it. As they were barreling down the hill, Molly Pitcher's tanks turned around and were now driving away. The first tank down the hill, the Panther II, quickly came to a stop, took aim, and shot at one of Molly Pitcher's Churchills. They hit at the things vulnerable rear, where it then came to a stop and yielded the white flag.

"A-ha! First one down!" Paige cheered.

Like sharks smelling blood in the water, Mojave Rose eagerly accelerated and started their chase of the enemy. Molly Pitcher was following a dirt path, now a soupy mud mess because of the heavy rains. Still, this did not deter them as they drove on, pushing their machines to the limit. They managed to stay just ahead of the, to a point where Mojave Rose wasn't in a favorable position to fire upon them. Looking at the map, Valarie noted that the path they were on led to a dead-end, with the forest being too thick to continue.

"Do they not know?" she wondered. "Or is it we that don't know? Guess we'll find out."

The chase was brief. The dead-end referred to on the map was reached. Molly Pitcher's tanks, some Panthers and a Comet, had reached the place before them and were now facing them, guns aimed. They were on both sides on a barn, one of the structures that the ATA had constructed to decorate the battlefield. Though their cannons were pointed at Mojave Rose, none of them were firing, a fact that confused them. In her tank, Penelope was sporting a grand smile. The first stage of her plan had gone off flawlessly.

"Excellent. Mojave Rose is right where I want them to be," she said in a near devilish tone. "Lilith! Now is the time to wreak havoc and let loose the dogs of war!"

In her machine, Lilith grinned upon receiving the signal. From within the barn, an engine of extreme power thundered to life, the likes of which no one on Mojave Rose has ever heard in their lives. It drove forward from the barn and destroyed the door, sending splintered wood in all directions. What emerged from that building was a one-of-a-kind monster. No one on the team could figure out what the hell they were seeing, only understanding that it was big and armored. All except for Valarie. She was utterly stunned at the lumbering hulk before her, eyes unblinking and fixed. Something she thought would only exist in blueprints. She would have never in her life thought that she'd actually see it existing in the real world. In any other circumstance, she'd be overjoyed over seeing such a sight. But all she felt was fear. For before the team was the heavyweight of the Entwicklung program. Once on paper, now in steel.

Standardpanzer E-100.

"Christ alive," Valarie uttered. "This is a living nightmare."

From looking at the barrel, she felt her body run cold. The E-100 was armed with a gun that could level buildings in a single shot. A 150mm KwK L/38. And it has already ranged on its first target.

"Let's give that Stuart some air time." Lilith ordered.

The E-100 fired, seemingly shaking the earth as it did. Fire and smoke rushed out of its barrel as it sent a 150mm projectile right toward the little Stuart, striking the vehicle at its turret. The immense kinetic energy from the gun flung the tank backward several feet, being in the air for a few, terrifying seconds. The crew within were forced out of their seats and bashed against the inner walls, getting bruised from all the impacts. The Stuart came to a stop, upside down, thoroughly eliminated from play.

"It's got a big bark but a long reload, I'm sure!" Haley yelled out. The Sherman Jumbo accelerated forward, without orders, and started to drive around the E-100 to send a shot on its weaker side armor. Valarie freaked out upon seeing them move and ordered them to return to the formation.

"No! No! Come back! You don't know—"

Another shot from the E-100 brought the Jumbo crawling to a stop. Its 150mm gun hasn't finished reloading, but its coaxial 75mm cannon was at the ready for such a situation. In a matter of moments, Mojave Rose has lost two tanks. In a match like this, such losses were more impactful.

"Everyone!" Valarie yelled with urgency. Load smoke shells and blast the thing with them! We need to leave ASAP!"

Loading the shells as rapidly as they can, Mojave Rose took aim and fired upon the E-100. With their combined firepower, a smoke cloud of enormous proportions spread out and consumed the area. The E-100, along with the other tanks of Molly Pitcher, moved forward and let loose a barrage of fire toward the direction of Mojave Rose. The tables have now turned, and dramatically so, with now Molly Pitcher being the pursuers.

"Excellent debut, Lilith," Penelope complimented. "You've put the fear of God into them and took out two of their tanks in rapid succession."

"Mmm, thank you."

Over the radio, Mavis reported in.

"Penelope, we have located their artillery though two of Mojave Rose's tanks are guarding the thing."

"Hmm," Penelope mused. "They must have anticipated a flank. Observe the artillery as originally planned. Do not fire at them."

"Copy that!"

As the smoke cleared, Penelope saw Mojave Rose just retreating out of view.

"Make haste to the west!" she commanded. "We need to make them committed to an engagement!"

Molly Pitcher advanced toward the direction their quarry has retreated too. The forest was re-entered again and as quickly as they entered, they left again as they found themselves in another open area. Here, dotted across some rolling hills, was Mojave Rose. Immediately, once the E-100 arrived, they all opened fire on the mammoth. Each and every shot hit but merely ricocheted off or shattered to harmless pieces. Even the guns of the Super Pershing and IS-3 couldn't ever hope to penetrate the thing from the front. Especially since Lilith was taking great care to angle her tank so that its armor is at its most effective. The E-100 took shots on its turret front and on both of its upper and lower glacis. The only damage they were doing was chipping the paint, at best. The other vehicles of Molly Pitcher drove behind the E-100. They were not firing at Mojave Rose. They were sitting back and enjoying the show. The E-100 now rotated its turret and at its leisure browsed for its next target.

"My, oh my. It's just like dining at the finest buffet in town." Lilith commented with glee. On her periscopes, she looked at Mojave Rose's vehicles and spotted the IS-3.

"IS-3. Three o'clock. Take aim and fire."

Ray watched as the E-100 turned and aimed right at his vehicle.

"Oh? All that firepower just for us? We can take it!" he exclaimed.

The super-heavy tank fired and its powerful round hit and bounced off the front turret of the IS-3. It was a high-caliber gun, yet the circular nature of the IS-3's turret proved to be more than a match for it.

"Thank god we're hull-down," Ray remarked with a sigh of relief. Still, the impact of the round had so much energy behind that it echoed throughout the fighting compartment for several long seconds. "But that thing is the open might as well be invincible! What is it, anyway?"

"Standardpanzer E-100. A super-heavy tank designed by the Germans. It was part of a whole program of tanks with standardized manufacturing processes," Valarie explained over the radio. "150mm cannon with a coaxial 75mm means that it has a hell of a lot of firepower, with thick armor to match. We don't have to means to take out the thing from its front."

"Say, what about from above?"

"Mmm, I was already thinking that."

Three miles behind Mojave Rose, the SU-14, along with its VK and ACIV guards, were away from the action but could hear the thuds of the guns, especially the deep thud from the E-100.

"If that's what the things sounds like, I'd hate to get hit by it." Marielle remarked.

"Same here. It makes me glad I'm in a self-propelled gun, being far away and such." Jacqueline said. Her radio then came alive as Valarie gave her coordinates for a fire mission. "Oh! Time for some action! Let's get to work!"

As her crew began loading the shell and making out the ballistics, from the depths of the forest at their side, four light tanks watched them in silence. With how small their machines were, they managed to hide them nicely in some bushes. From her Panzer II, Mavis trained her binoculars on the SU-14 when she then saw its 152mm gun start to raise in the air. She got on the radio.

"Lilith, their artillery is taking aim."

"Understood," she responded. "We are awaiting your signal."

Mavis watched as the SU-14's gun elevate and maneuver around as it ranged on its target. It fired.

"High-explosive heading your way!"

Receiving the warning, Lilith ordered the E-100 to come to a halt and immediately put it into reverse. With enough time to brew a nice cup of tea, the tank dodged a shot from the SU-14, a crater forming from the spot it once was.

"Good try," Lilith remarked. "But, ah, not good enough. Soft enemy target at eleven o'clock. Prepare to fire."

From her position, Valarie watched as everything they have thrown at the thing was futile. Her dismay was steadily increasing.

"Not from the front nor from above. Our only chance is to get a shot at its side or rear but like hell they'll allow us to do that."

"Hey, Valarie," Emma then asked. "What about that, ah, tactic from the Japanese national finals we saw a few months back?"

Valarie thought about for a moment but shook her head.

"No, the E-100 isn't the right type of tank to pull that off. Besides, we'd need a Hetzer for that."

On her left side, she then felt an explosion. The SU-100 was hit by the E-100 and was silenced. Just ten tanks remained on their team while Molly Pitcher still had twenty-four on the field operational. The odds looked grim. Taking in a deep breath, Valarie looked beyond the E-100 to the tanks behind it, who haven't fired at them during this whole engagement.

"Enough wasting ammo on the E-100. Take aim at the tanks at its rear. We need to get their numbers down!"

Their guns transferred their aim from the E-100 to targets more feasible to take out. There was a near feeling of panic when they were taking aim and loading their shells. The commanders nervously looked at the E-100 as it searched for a new target. Its gun had a twenty-second reload rate. Twenty seconds. A lot of things can happen in such a short period of time. The T-44, Super Pershing, IS-3, Cromwell, and Panther II each ranged on a target and in a single barrage, eliminated five enemy Panthers from the match. The Puma armored car fired too, but its 50mm cannon was puny compared to all the other tanks in the area. It was moral support if anything else. The quickness of these actions alarmed Penelope, and yet at the same time, impressed her.

"Five knock-outs in a single volley," she said with a slight grin on her face. "I'll be honest. I've expected less from a public school. I'm glad to be wrong in this case. They're committed now. The anvil is primed. Now, all we need is the hammer."

Some miles away, Mavis was still maintaining her observation of the SU-14. It hasn't fired another short since its first, an aspect that puzzled her. Surely, their artillery would make another attempt to launch another shell toward the E-100. As she pondered this, Marielle in her VK was keeping alert when she received a radio message from Valarie.

"The fact that the E-100 suddenly stopped and reversed around the time you fired gives me all the reason to believe that someone is watching you guys. Look at every bush in your vicinity and knock 'em out!"

"Copy all! We'll handle those peepers." Marielle assured.

At once, she pressed her face against the scopes and systematically examined every bush she came across. The turret of the VK moved, scanning the environment. From Mavis's position, she noted all the movement but thought nothing of it at first. It was only when the VK's high-velocity 75mm gun then suddenly trained on her tank did she figure out things were quite different.

"Full reverse! Everyone, full reverse now!" she ordered

The four light tanks backed-up at rapid speeds, with the VK sending a shot downrange and only just missing them. The ACIV came to join them and together fired upon Molly Pitcher's scouts. To get the message hammered down that they weren't wanted, each tank fired their coaxial machine guns into the forest. Bullets sprayed wildly in all directions, hitting everything in a general direction. The ground, trees, and a small fraction of them actually hitting the light tanks. The goal wasn't to get them knocked out, not yet anyway. Driving them off was more than enough for the moment. Once far enough way, Mavis made her report.

"Penelope, we got spotted and were swatted away. No casualties but we have no visual on their artillery."

The news wasn't favorable when Penelope heard that. Though she wasn't too upset. The decisive blow she wanted to deliver was not gone but delayed. With Mojave Rose now being aware of Mavis's tanks, it would be far too risky to order them to attack the artillery with its guards on the highest level of vigilance. Instead, Penelope ordered them to keep a good distance away and to wait for the heat to die down. As for her tanks, though with the casualties they've sustained, it was time for some reinforcements.

"Caroline," she said over the radio. "Send some tanks my way, if you please. Make sure the Jagdtiger is one of them."

"Oh? Have things gone south?" Caroline asked, half surprised.

"No. I just want to keep things from going south."

"Understood. They are already on their way."

"Inform them to make haste as we are pressing our attack."

"Of course."

With reinforcements secured, Penelope ordered Lilith to accelerate toward Mojave Rose, with the remaining contingent of her tanks following close behind. Though this force was currently smaller than Mojave Rose, in terms of firepower and armor, there are vastly superior. The sight of an E-100, Panthers, and a Comet, all with respectable guns, coming their way. Valarie watched as they crept ever closer. The E-100 has certainly reloaded by now and the team was extremely hesitant to pop out from their positions to get a line of fire knowing that at any moment could they get blasted to hell. Checking her map yet again, she studied it to determine her next course of action. Behind them was a path that led to one of the bridges on the battlefield that was over a stream. She didn't know exactly what to do, but crossing that bridge will get the team to safety and buy them more time to hash out a proper plan.

"We're pulling back," she informed over the radio. "Follow me."

The T-44 reversed with the rest of the team following suit. Their movement caused Molly Pitcher to open fire yet barely was any of Mojave Rose's vehicles visible for them to get a clear shot on them, so their shells just annihilated the wet grassy hills. Mojave Rose moved quickly. As they moved, Valarie gave orders to their separated vehicles.

"Sierra, Arroyo, and Acacia. There is another path by your position that will take you to the same place we'll end up. Follow it as discretely as you can. And keep watch for those scouts."

"Understood!" Jacqueline reported.

The SU-14, ACIV, and VK drove on to the path mentioned by Valarie and were on there way. The rest of Mojave Rose marched on at great speed. In contrast, Molly Pitcher matched speed with its E-100. Already not a fast machine, the poor weather made the terrain a slough. The mud did no favors for their speed. The distance between them and Mojave Rose grew but Penelope did not fret for she had the same map they did. In the direction Mojave Rose was traveling, was a river with only one way to get across. A suspension bridge. It'll take time for them to cross it. Time that Molly Pitcher will gladly spend to catch up.

The tropical storm has not waned. Yet nor has it got any stronger, calming the nerves of those who feared a hurricane suddenly falling upon them. Every tank on the field was completely drenched. Even the crews themselves couldn't remain dry. Tanks aren't the most water-tight vehicles ever designed. With a dedicated enough storm, water finds a way to seep in little by little. In the T-44, the hatch above Valarie slowly dripped water on the top of her helmet, which would then flow down to her face, compelling her to periodically wipe it off. She didn't know what time it was, though she knew that a couple of hours must have already elapsed. All the action she'd seen, combined with the weather, sapped her energy. Her eyes were starting to become heavy, her blinking becoming slow. A desire manifested in the back of her mind to crawl into a bed and sleep. To get nestled in its warmth next to the person she dearly loved. She fantasized for several moments about such a scene and nearly got lost in it when she then shook her head. Her attention was needed here, not there. The team needed her at her best, as much as she needs them at theirs. She needed an energy boost.

"Ah, anyone has some coffee?" she asked her crew.

Ashley reached down by her feet.

"Yeah, got some here," she said, presenting a thermos. "It's a bit cold though so—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Valarie grabbed the thermos from her hand, opened it, and drank it all in a matter of seconds. She handed it back.

"Thanks. I needed that."

"Damn, you can just down it, huh?"

"Since when did you drink coffee?" Emma inquired.

"Just moments ago."

Not long after getting caffeine in her system, the team has arrived at the suspension bridge. It was connected to two large hills on either side, with the river below them, flowing down a slope. All the rain throughout the day has enlarged the river, but as it was already known to be relatively shallow, it has not fully submerged all the rocks that are sticking out of the water, well-rounded as a result of the untold number of years of water shaping them. The T-44 and Super Pershing took up sentry positions as the rest of the team proceeded with the crossing. The suspension bridge look aged, parts of its metal rusted. As the Cromwell was crossing, Sage was a nervous wreck.

"We're gonna fall, we're gonna fall."

"No, you're not. This bridge was meant for tanks to cross." Valarie comforted.

After several moments of holding her breath, the Cromwell made it to the other side. Sage let out a huge sigh of relief as her tank joined the others. Now it was the IS-3's turn. As the machine got onto the bridge, its supports groaned as it supported the tank's weight. Ray told Jeremy to drive as carefully as he can.

"Keep it straight...steady...it's a good ten-foot drop to the river below."

"Ugh, I'd prefer not knowing that." Jeremy complained

Soon, they too made it across. All that remained was the T-44 and the Super Pershing.

"So, you or me first?" Valarie asked Louise. But she didn't immediately respond, she was out of her hatch, looking toward the distance. Her thoughts were ping-ponging back and forth as she was contemplating an idea. Her eyes narrowed as she came to a decision. She looked down into her tank to look at her crew. The expression on her face told them what she planned to do and they supported it wholeheartedly. "Paige?"

She got back out of her hatch and turned to look at Valarie.

"You go and cross the bridge. I'll remain here to hold them off."

"What?!" Valarie exclaimed. "There's no way you can penetrate that E-100. No one on the team can. What good is there in you staying behind?"

"I've got a plan. But if I tell you the specifics, you'll stop me."

"A plan to take out the E-100?"

Louise slowly nodded.

"If not, at least I will delay the enemy considerably."

Valarie took a moment to look at her in silence. Louise had a look of fierce determination on her face, an expression that told Valarie that Louise was going to do what she planned regardless, though would prefer her blessing. She nodded, giving it.

"Alright. Be safe."

"Ehhh," Louise uttered, shaking her hand. "Safety is a relative thing."

The sound of engines seized their attention.

"You better cross now," Louise said. "Once you do, lead the team as far as you can and do what you do best."

Valarie ducked down in her tank and the T-44 moved briskly to the other side. It led the team away and were soon out of sight. Louise had the Super Pershing reverse onto the bridge until it was almost all the way across. The mass of her machine caused the bridge to strain and groan, as it drooped down slightly. The flow of the river could be heard by her, ten feet below. In her tank, she spoke with her crew.

"You know what I want to happen, don't you?"

They nodded. She turned to her gunner, Jocelyn.

"Take aim, please."

A 90mm shell was thrust into the breech and the gun was pointed to the target Louise has referred to. With everything all set, there was nothing left to do but wait. So, she got out of her hatch and took off her helmet. She let her hair flow freely with the wind as it got wet with the rain. Soon, coming into view, was the E-100, followed by its escort. Seeing the Super Pershing parked on the bridge drew curiosity from Lilith, who instructed that the tank move forward onto the bridge. As the E-100 got on the structure, the metal strained like never before but still had the strength to hold both heavy machines. Lilith ordered a stop just a few meters away from the Super Pershing and popped out of her hatch as well.

"Let me guess. Mojave?" she greeted with a question.

A faint grin appeared on Louise's face.

"You already know the school I go to, so your guess must be about the tribe I'm from. The blue face tattoos gave it away, huh?"

"Indeed they did. Though not everyone who sees the art on your face would instantly know what they represent. I find your culture incredibly fascinating, ever since I first learned about it when I took an elective in Native American studies."

"I'm glad you find my culture enjoyable to learn. I'm always eager to share it with whoever is willing to listen."

"Oh, on any other time and that person would be me. But I've got more pressing matters to attend to and I'm positive you feel the same way."

"You got that right. I'm not letting you pass this bridge uncontested."

"Here's the thing," Lilith said, with a condescending chuckle. "The Super Pershing is a tough nut, but I got one hell of a nutcracker. First, I'm going to shoot you where you stand. Next, I'm going to push your tank outta the way so that my team can cross. And last, we are going to then hunt down the rest of your stragglers and win the finals."

Louise let out a small chuckle of her own.

"Your arrogance blinds you."

"Oh? Is that a saying from your people?"

"Nah. It's from Star Wars."

Louise quickly put on her helmet and strapped it tightly. She went into her tank and gave the order.

"Fire!"

The Super Pershing had aimed, not on the E-100 or any of the other tanks of Molly Pitcher. But at one of the supports of the suspension bridge. The round instantly destroyed it and the bridge started to list toward the side like a sinking ship. Louise yelled at her crew to brace for what was coming. Soon, a suspension cable snapped, then another, then two more, then five. The bridge, now no longer strong enough to support over two hundred tons of steel, drooped farther. At the moment before the total collapse, the E-100 fired its 150mm point-blank at the Super Pershing, knocking them out from the match, but that wouldn't stop the process that they have kicked off. With an enormously loud snap, the bridge collapsed, sending an innumerable amount of pieces down below to the river, followed by two large machines. The Super Pershing smashed hard on the rocks, snapping both of its tracks and tearing off some of its roadwheels. It went down the river for a moment before coming to a stop. Dazed and bruised, Louise managed to get her hatch open, which caused some pain in her arm. Out of her hatch, she looked at the carnage her crew has done. Pieces of metal were absolutely everywhere, the smaller bits being carried away by the river to parts unknown. And there, just ahead of her, was the Standardpanzer E-100. The monster was on its side, the gun pointed at her direction. She could see the thick exhaust fumes billowing out from its rear when it then ceased. The tank went silent and out from the top of the turret came the white flag.

"I told you," Louise said quietly to herself, as she began to nurse her injuries. "This crossing won't be uncontested."

The E-100's escorts, Penelope's contingent, just stared in shock over what had just transpired before them. The super-heavy tank that she had worked so hard on getting approved and hiding its existence now laid eliminated in a manner she'd never expected. Not by the gun by of tank, but through use of the environment. She chastised herself for not foreseeing such a possibility but did not dwell on such negativity for long. For the first of her reinforcements have arrived. Mojave Rose now just numbered nine vehicles and Molly Pitcher had just over double that in remaining tanks. She had practiced restrained throughout the match but with the loss of the E-100, Mojave Rose has proved to her that they are a more capable school than she realized. As she was contemplating her next set of actions, a bewildered voice erupted over her radio.

"Penelope! Is what I'm hearing true about the E-100?!" Caroline asked, stammering out her question. The tanks with Penelope reported what they saw to the rest of the team and the news of the E-100's elimination was very soon known by all.

"Yes. It's down. An unfortunate turn of events," Penelope remarked. "But we still outnumber them. I want you to send all of your tanks to me but stay at the town, Caroline."

"Why?!" Caroline demanded. "Why should I stay here while nearly everyone else goes to avenge the E-100?"

"Putting all our eggs in one basket is always a way too risky move. Even if we have a huge advantage. Stay in the town with your King Tiger. You, my second in command, my best friend, I ask you to act as this team's final hope for victory if things go to hell."

Caroline shut her eyes as she inhaled deeply, soaking in what her friend has told her.

"I understand. I'll do as you command."

Every tank but Caroline's departed the town and made straight for Penelope's position. The river was still to be crossed but now with the bridge destroyed, they would have to follow it north to find a suitable place to ford across it. A process that will take some time to accomplish. On the other side of this body of water, Mojave Rose has put quite the distance between them and Molly Pitcher. Valarie only ordered them to stop when she was completely confident that they were miles away from the enemy team. At a clearing, they rested. Wanting to stretch her legs, Valarie got out of her tank and walked around the forest floor. The trees overhead provided some protection from the rain. Radio reports told her that the E-100 has been eliminated, which was a huge morale boost for the team. Though it was at the cost of their Super Pershing, a tank that can dish out and receive damage. And even with the E-100 out of play, the team was still outnumbered. They had nine tanks remaining while Molly Pitcher had double that at eighteen. More work was to be done to even the odds. She took a look around the forest to search for some inspiration. She perked up when she saw a hollow log and went up to it. It was rather tall, seemingly perfect for a vehicle to hid behind it. She happened to know the ideal tank for it, one known for being really flat. She sprinted toward the Jagdpanzer IV.

"You see that log?" Valarie asked once she got Natalie's attention. "Position yourself behind it."

"Um...sure." Natalie replied.

As the Jagdpanzer moved to its new position, Valarie ran back to the T-44, rummaged around in the interior, and got out a small shovel. She returned to the log and used the tip of the shovel to chip away at the log. It was relatively easy as it was well rotted. Enough of the log was broken away to create a hole that was big enough to allow the 75mm to shoot through it.

"About time I find I use for that shovel," Valarie remarked. She looked at the Jagdpanzer's spot for a good second. "Alright, that's good. You're hidden away. Now for everyone else..."

Emma climbed out of the tank and joined with Valarie.

"What's ah, what's the plan here?"

"Setting up an ambush. We need to take out more of their tanks to have a chance. Now, Mesquite is behind that log. There's a dirt road just right by us that Molly Pitcher will use to catch up to us."

"How can you be so sure?"

"They've got mostly heavy vehicles so using road will be faster than just roughing it on the raw forest floor, even if they are muddy," Valarie explained. She resumed checking around her surroundings, walking to the road in question. Stepping on the road caused her to sink a little into the mud, which took some force to get her foot out. She looked down the road, seeing nothing but the wilderness. She turned her head the other direction and noticed a tree, a black spruce, that was leaning toward the road. Like it was weak. With an idea formed, she raced over to the IS-3.

"Get your steel tow cables and bring down some trees!"

The IS-3 brought down several trees onto the road and collected them all in one spot. They were laid longways across the road, forming a barricade. With this in place, Valarie returned to her tank and explained her plan over the radio.

"With the tree wall, Molly Pitcher will stop on the road. There are ditches on either side of it, so we will position ourselves on them and cover our tanks with anything we can find to camouflage them. We'll need all hands on deck so Acacia and Arroyo will join us here."

"And leave Sierra all by themselves?" Ray spoke up. "It doesn't sit well with me."

"I have the same feeling but it's a risk we'll have to take. I want every gun in action." Valarie responded.

The team set forth to get ready in their positions. In their ditches, crews got out of their tanks and went forth scavenging the forest floor for anything they could use to hide their tanks. Fallen tree branches, bushes, and even clumps of mud were thrown on their tanks to make them look like part of the natural scenery. Within a few minutes, the VK and ACIV joined with the rest of the team and got to work doing the same thing. One the left side of the road, all camouflaged, was the T-44, VK, and Puma. On the right side were the IS-3, Cromwell, Panther II, and Jagdpanzer IV behind its log. The SU-14 was three miles away, as always. The day was progressively becoming darker as the sun was now streaking downward in the sky behind the dense cloud cover.

"Once Molly Pitcher comes into view, do not yet rotate your turrets as one will surely see. But mark your targets. Await my command to attack."

The ambush set, Mojave Rose waited as the rain continued to batter on them. The waiting was the most agonizing any of them have felt in all of their matches. as the minutes went by, all of their hearts began to beat faster. Some were breaking into an anxious sweat. In the far distance, thunder boomed, sounding like cannon fire. For those that brought it, gum was taken to ease their worries. After what seemed like an eternity, down the road, tanks were spotted. It was the near entirety of Molly Pitcher, driving along the road. They soon reached the tree barricade and came to a stop.

"Huh," a Sherman commander wondered. "The storm must've knocked these trees down."

Penelope didn't concur with that assessment.

"The wind fell all these trees all in the same spot? Unlikely," she remarked. Another report than came over the radio.

"Uh, Penelope, the ah, Jagdtiger is falling behind and our Jagdpanther got...lost."

"Seriously? Ugh. Well, they're on their own for now. The rest of us can't be too far from Mojave Rose."

She then heard something like thunder but there was something peculiar about it. She looked upward to the sky where she saw a small projectile coming straight toward them from the clouds. Before she could even utter a word, it landed on the tanks in front of her erupting a massive explosion. The ambush has been sprung, with the SU-14 launching a strike that eliminated six enemy tanks in one swoop.

"Take aim and fire at will! Shoot them all!" Valarie ordered.

The rest of Mojave Rose opened up and fired from their hidden positions. From both sides, Molly Pitcher was under siege. In this chaos, none knew where to direct their fire as it seemed like it was coming from everywhere. This hesitation ensured that more of their vehicles were out of action. Though, being a highly trained and experienced team, they recovered quickly and started to return fire. The air grew hot as rounds constantly buzzed around. More of Molly Pitcher was getting hit and knocked out, but now, so was Mojave Rose. A shot from a Ferdinand brought an end to the Panther II, and a shot from a Churchill eliminated the VK. It was the pure definition of a firefight. In the T-44, it was searching for another target when it then sighted a Comet.

"Take aim and blast the thing!" Valarie ordered.

The 100mm gun turned and tracked the Comet as it was reversing to get an angle on the Jagdpanzer. It stopped and fired, taking out the tank destroyer, only for the T-44 to fire upon it, a white flag popping out of its turret thereafter.

"God, if I was only a second faster." Emma whined.

The T-44 crew didn't know it, but they have just taken out the tank of Molly Pitcher's captain. The rest of Molly Pitcher's tanks were getting worn down, but remained a threat. The ACIV and Cromwell, with their constant firing blowing away their cover, were spotted and subsequently taken out by the remaining Panthers. As they reloaded, the T-44 and IS-3 silenced them for good. With their shots, the area fell quiet. All the enemy tanks in their vicinity were down for the count. The ambush was a complete success, at a high cost. Mojave Rose just had four vehicles left in play. The T-44, Puma, IS-3, and SU-14. From her tank, Valarie was breathing hard. It all lasted just three minutes. And it was the most chaotic three minutes anyone on the team had ever experienced. The shooting was nonstop.

"That's...that's gotta be the closest thing I'm ever going to get to being in an actual war. Only in war can things can this insane." Valarie commented.

"But hey! We've done it!" Ashley remarked with cheer.

"Yeah, but we're not done yet. There's still their light tanks to worry about. But now the balance of power has completely changed. Alright. Mirage and I will pair up and head to Sierra to escort them to the town. Juniper, you'll be on your own as you head to town ahead of us to secure it for our arrival. With your heavy armor, if you come across those scouts, they won't be able to dent ya"

"Copy that," Ray reported. "We're rolling out."

The IS-3 got on the road and drove out of sight to the mock town. The T-44 and Puma drove side-by-side as they head into the forest toward the SU-14's position. As the two vehicles drove, they remained vigilant in case they ran into the enemy light tanks. What they didn't expect to see at all was suddenly a Jagdtiger coming into view and firing its massive 128mm gun toward then, with the shot just passing above the Puma.

"Holy fuck, where did that thing come from?!" Aurora exclaimed.

"Mirage, get the hell out of here! You can't do anything to that Jagdtiger. Get to Sierra as quickly as you can! Go!" Valarie commanded

Aurora hesitated for a moment but soon complied and the Puma raced away. The Jagdtiger aimed at it but gave up once the scout car darted into cover.

"Is there anything we can do to it?" Emma asked.

"Load APCR and take aim at the lower glacis. Hurry!"

Ashley grabbed one of only three APCR rounds available on the ammo rack and slide the round into the breech.

"Ready!"

The Jagdtiger had traversed to face its front right at the T-44, its 128mm in the reload.

Emma trained her gun on the lower glacis of the German tank destroyer and quickly made out the range. She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Valarie. They exchanged no words but just through touch did they manage to convey their emotions.

"Target acquired!"

"Fire!"

The T-44 fired as the Jagdtiger let loose a shot just a fraction of a second later. The two shells were in the air in the same time, and for a brief moment, were just mere inches apart as they flew past each other. The APCR round sent by the T-44 hit the lower glacis of the Jagdtiger at high velocity, rattling the machine and ending its influence in the match. Just a moment later, a 128mm AP round impacted hard, like an asteroid hitting a planet, on the front turret of the T-44. The vehicle was sent back a few feet where it then rested, white flag raised. The crew was stunned. It was the first time they have been knocked out, and it couldn't have been at a worse time, the critical moments of the national finals. Inside the tank, the crew looked at Valarie, her face a stoic expression. Before they could say a word of comfort, she got out of the tank and stood upon the turret. She walked forward and felt her legs weak like jelly. She sat down. The rain drenching her uniform. Emma got out of the tank too and wrapped her arms around her.

"Valarie...I'm...I'm sorry...I wasn't fast enough." Emma said. She was starting to cry.

Valarie turned toward her and wiped her tears away.

"All I wanted was your best. And I got it." she comforted her. Valarie pulled her closer and gave her a kiss.

"Now...what?" Emma then asked.

"Wait for the recovery vehicle. That and pray."

And then there were three. Just three vehicles of Mojave Rose operating on the battlefield. When the news reached Ray, he gasped. Words couldn't form as his mind raced as the information sank in. With Valarie out of the match, it was him taking command. The plan had to go on.

"Mirage, what is your status?" he asked over the radio.

"I'm paranoid as fuck! I don't know when we'll just run into their light tanks and get torn apart!" Aurora responded with some agitation.

"Focus on your task and get to Sierra fast. Which reminds me, where are you exactly, Sierra?"

"We've been on the move toward the town. We made a guess that is where we're all going next." Jacqueline answered.

"Good, Mirage will join you shortly and escort you to the town. I will reach the town sometime after you.

The SU-14 drove alone the forest as it made its way to the mock town. Jacqueline was out of her hatch, paying no mind to the rain, to be vigilant of her surroundings. She was on her binoculars checking their rear when she saw something.

"Is that...Mirage?" she wondered. Focusing her view on the object and her eyes widened as she spotted four light tanks moving in a horizontal direction, away from them.

"Please don't see us, please don't see us," Jacqueline hoped. One of the light tanks, a Panzer II, then came to a halt and its turret rotated toward them. "Damn."

"Ah! That's their artillery! Come on! Let's get them!" Mavis ordered. Her light tank contingent turned and all accelerated toward the SU-14.

"Juniper, we've been spotted!" Jacqueline reported.

Ray had a flash of panic hit him as he wondered what to do. He was too far to support and could only pray that the Puma could reach them in time.

"How soon will they be upon you?" he asked

"Two minutes and that's being generous."

"Um, okay, Mirage, how close to are you to reaching Sierra?"

"Four minutes away!" Aurora informed.

"That's not good enough!"

"We're going as fast as we can!"

"Then we can only hope that the enemy is much farther away than Sierra hoped."

"Hold on, we're coming up to something," Jacqueline then spoke. "A tunnel it looks like. We're not going to make to the town, we're gonna hunker down in that tunnel and hope for the best."

"Understood," Ray said with some reluctance. "With luck, Mirage will be able to reach you and help you out."

Over at the SU-14's position, the tunnel in question was reached. With options limited, the self-propelled gun drove into the tunnel and was soon covered in darkness. Not too long after, Molly Pitcher's light tanks arrived and stopped at the entrance of the tunnel.

"They went in there," Mavis informed. "And with its slow speed, it won't make it to the other side. We got them. Let's move in."

At her orders, the light tanks drove into the tunnel at a cautious pace. The darkness in the tunnel was total, with the Panzer II turning on its headlights in order to get their bearings. The tunnel was starting the curve and heard the rumbling of an engine grow louder and louder.

"There you are," Mavis said with a grin. "All nice and vulnerable."

As they drove around a corner, they suddenly found themselves at the end of a barrel of a 152mm cannon.

"God! Open fire!" Mavis commanded.

The tanks under her leadership fired. The Panzer II emptied an entire clip of its 20mm autocannon as the other three vehicles, British Cruisers, let loose their shells. But to their utter shock, all of their rounds bounced. The front armor of the SU-14 was much stronger than they have thought.

"Time to swat these flies," Jacqueline said. "Fire!"

At near point-blank range, the SU-14 launched a high-explosive shell at the light tanks, consuming everyone in a fiery explosion. The intense energy being released pushed the light tanks away several feet as they collided with each other and the walls of the tunnels. On the roof, pieces of rubble broke away and smoke started to clear. Outside one of the entrances, the Puma finally arrived. Aurora saw with surprise as a great amount of smoke billowed out of the entrance. She raised Sierra on the radio multiple times but no response came. No one came out of the tunnel. With that, then there were two.

"Sierra is out of play, but they took out all of their light tanks, Molly Pitcher can't have many more tanks left, right?" Aurora asked over the radio.

"Let me think for a minute," Ray said. He took a pause to mentally tally all the eliminated enemy tanks. "It's...it's a two on two!"

"Two versus two?" Aurora echoed. "Well, we wanted things to be even and we sure as hell got it."

"Race straight for the town, Mirage! I'm not too far from it. We'll perform better once we're together."

"On it!"

The Puma peeled out from the tunnel entrance and made rapid progress toward the town. Since the match has started, the stakes have never stopped getting higher and higher. The tension in the air was thick, thick enough that one could cut it with a knife. Elsewhere in the forest, the IS-3 was getting closer to the town. Ray, checking the map, reckoned that they were just a mile away. Pleased, he grinned as he tended to his periscopes looking at the surrounding environment. His grin evaporated as he then spotted a Jagdpanther. Taking aim.

"Eight o'clock! Enemy—"

The Jagdpanther fired its 88mm gun at the angled side of the IS-3. The Soviet tank, its rear now emanating black smoke, slowed to stop, yet its turret remained moving and took aim at the Jagdpanther. Its commander was in a panic.

"Christ alive! Another shell! Fast! Fast!"

A round was loaded but the Jagdpanther would not fire again. It was blasted with the high-caliber gun of the IS-3, the impact rocking the crew within violently. The IS-3 attempted to drive on but its engine whined higher and higher, where it then fell silent.

At the spectator's area, the energy was at an all-time high. The match everyone was watching had them at the edge of their seats. As people were being entertained, elsewhere in the area, a recovery vehicle arrived with its cargo in tow. A T-44. When it came to a stop, Valarie and her crew hopped off the huge truck, where the rest of the team was waiting for them. Valarie was immediately surrounded by them. The look of their faces was all the same. Worry.

"Can we still win?" Natalie asked her, voice weary.

"I...I don't know. I want to sit down for a moment if that's alright with everyone."

The team parted, allowing for space to Valarie walk through. She was heading toward their private tent when she happened to glance on a screen. She approached and saw it was reporting the status of her team. It read,

Panther II — OUT

SU-14-2 — OUT

T-44 — OUT

IS-3 — L.O.S

The last status intrigued her. What did 'LOS' mean?

Aurora has never felt so alone. The forest now more than ever became a terrifying place. Her head was a swivel as she frantically looked to see if the last remaining tank of Molly Pitcher was about to take a shot at them. All this stress made her feel nauseous but had to stifle this feeling to remain focused. Either through the grace of God or just dumb luck, they made it to the town without seeing anything. The road they were on was cobblestone, but vastly better than the dirt she had become accustomed too. It allowed the Puma to move that much faster. In no time at all did it find itself deep in the town. It was made to look like a German town from the Second World War. And it looked like it went through a war. Chunks of buildings were gone, destroyed by tanks in previous matches. Only a few windows still had glass on them as the rest have been blown away one way or the other. Some buildings looked like they have been burned, with only the brick skeletons surviving these infernos. A war-torn town did little to calm the Puma crew's nerves. And things were only going to get worse. For they were being followed. Something big and out for blood. Out of her hatch, Aurora ordered the armored car to come to a stop so that she could listen in to the area. Concentrating, she could hear that there was another engine in town. Looking behind, she learned whose engine it was. Emerging from the corner was a King Tiger.

"Fucking serious? Another tank we can't penetrate!?" Aurora exclaimed.

The King Tiger accelerated toward them, forcing the Puma to speed away and turn in the nearest corner. A cat and mouse chase have ensured. In her tank, Caroline was obsessed with the pursuit.

"I cannot believe the match is coming down to a one-on-one! And against that little kitten no less," she remarked. She took a breather. "Well, in any case, no way in hell can that car can ever hope to take us out."

She took a moment to review a map, focusing on the town specifically.

"We don't have to be faster. We only have to take the right route to intercept you."

Her King Tiger with its unique diesel engine turned and drove onto a series of streets, its gun at the ready. At an intersection, it saw the Puma race past. The long 88mm fired but only just missed them and hit the building past the armored car. Undeterred, they pressed on and began working on another intercept. Aurora was at a loss over what to do. What could they do against a King Tiger? Nothing to its front, but its rear was a different matter. If they could just maybe, possibly, get behind the heavy tank, they would have a chance. A small chance, but it was the only option they had.

"I gotta figure out some maneuver to get us behind that thing." Aurora wondered, staring at her map.

"They not just gonna let it happen." Riley commented.

"Mmmhmm. They'll expect for sure." Avery added.

"Well, you ladies got any other suggestions?"

They didn't respond.

"Thought so. We have to try. We just gotta. It what Valarie would've wanted."

A mile from town, a girl sat on top of a Jagdpanther, her head being held up by her hands. She was staring off into the distance when the recovery vehicle arrived. When it parked, the driver got out and looked at the tank destroyer.

"Ey!" he yelled. "Ain't there suppose to be another tank here?"

The girl looked at him and apathetically pointed in a direction. Looking, he saw indentations in the ground, made by tank tracks. Heading right for the town.

The King Tiger was increasingly getting better at making its intercepts, with the Puma making no headway at all in its attempt to get behind the heavy tank. The pressure was intense. The Puma crew felt the weight of the world on their shoulders. To an extent that it actually hurt. It was cold outside their armored car but within the fighting compartment, it was getting uncomfortably warm as they were all nervously sweating. The Puma made a turn and ahead of them was a fork in the road. They prepared to choose a route but here, on the stone road, was puddles of rainwater. At their speed, the moment they turned, they spun out on the stone, tires screeching, ending with them slamming against the building that forked the road with their side. They quickly made an attempt to move on but rubble have trapped one of their wheels. It fruitlessly spun in place.

"No, no!" Aurora exclaimed in panic. Turning her head down the road, she saw a terrifying sight. First came the barrel, then the rest of the tank. The King Tiger came around a corner and turned to face them. "It...it can't end like this!"

The King Tiger drove slowly toward its prey, purposely, to fill them with fear. Caroline looked at the trapped Puma with glee, a huge grin appearing on her face.

"Ha. This is it, huh?" she remarked with a chuckle. "All vulnerable. Terrified. And with no chance of escape. I cannot envision a more perfect ending for a match like this."

Her tank moved forward until they were exactly one hundred meters away from the armored car. All the while, the Puma fire, with each shot doing nothing.

"Defiant to the end! I love it!" Caroline complimented. "You have my respect, Dust Devils. But not my mercy. Prepare to fire!"

A shell was loaded and the 88mm took aim at the Puma, center of mass.

"I bid thee farewell, little kitten."

The Puma then fired its smoke grenade launchers, creating a cloud of smoke between them and the King Tiger. This action cause Caroline to burst into laughter.

"Hahaha! Is this the vehicle-equivalent of an animal pissing itself when it's utterly terrified? That's a first. Regardless, this act of desperation changes nothing. The match is over. We win. Fire!"

The barrel of the 88mm erupted into a mixture of fire of smoke as an armor-piercing round was sent down the road. It disappeared into the cloud of smoke and bounced.

"What? WHAT?" Caroline screamed. "How the fuck did we BOUNCE off a scout car!"

As the smokescreen dissipated, the reason why became clear. Appearing from the smoke the pride of the Soviet Red Army. The IS-3, with a black mark right on its pike armor.

"Is APCR loaded?" Ray asked.

"Loaded!" Cesar replied.

"Good. Gentlemen," he said with a huge smirk. "Let's give these fine ladies a peck on the cheek."

The 122mm cannon traversed and aimed straight at the turret front of the King Tiger. Caroline ordered another shell loaded and fired but the round just ricocheted off the pike nose armor of the Soviet machine. The IS-3 unleashed its fury on the last remaining tank of the enemy time. The heavy APCR round pierced through the air, splattering raindrops as it collided with them. In the amount of time a person would blink, the front turret of the King Tiger flashed as it suffered the hit. It shuddered violently, the impact leaving behind flames and smoke, along with a white flag. On every announcement system, radio, television, webstream, on any device around the world, people listening or watching heard these words being broadcasted.

"Mojave Rose of California has won the United States National Tankery Tournament!"

At the spectator's area, the crowd there exploded into celebrations, whose noise only the eruption of a massive volcano can ever hope to match. Here, Valarie and the rest of the team watched the screen display the name of their school, hailing them as victors. The emotions were overwhelming.

"From a nightmare to a dream come true!" Valarie exclaimed. "Holy...we actually won it all!" Again, her legs felt like they were made of jelly. Weak, she fell to her knees. Her friends rushed to her side and helped her up.

"Oh, come on, don't you faint when we just won it big!" Ashley joked, holding her up.

"Actually...I feel like...I..."

Ashley felt her go limp.

"Oh! Geez! Wake up!"

She shook her, with Emma finding some water to throw on her face. Valarie came to a second later, letting out a gasp.

"Did I...did I—"

"Yes, you fainted," Emma confirmed. "Don't you do that again because that terrifies me."

"Sorry. I'm just...overwhelmed."

"We all are," Heather said. "This is all...just pure bliss."

A moment later and the Puma and IS-3 crews made their arrival, to thunderous fanfare. They rushed by the rest of the team, showering them with well-deserved praise. Natalie pushed her way through the crowd and went right up to Ray. The smile on her face was the biggest he had ever seen. He was about to say something but his attempted speech was interrupted by her lips. This public display of passion further excited the team, drawing 'Oohs' and giggles as it was announced to them that they were a couple. They shared a tender moment, when then, Valarie went up to him.

"No one can deny it. You won us the match."

"A-ha," he said, blushing, and scratched the back of his neck. "A win like this is never done alone."

"Tell me, what happened when you got hit? When I saw your status on the screen, it showed 'LOS'. Why?"

"We got hit bad, but not bad enough. The round from the Jagdpanther must've destroyed the monitoring equipment, giving a 'Loss of Signal'. Our engine and radio took a beating to so we had to do some impromptu repairs. We were up and running in no time. Barely, but moving."

"So, you got lucky?" Natalie asked.

"Well, when you put in that way. Sure."

As the team was in the midst of their celebrations, a pair of girls walked into their private tent. The team was so preoccupied that they did not notice them, Valarie included. So much so that she was not aware that they were now standing right by her. One of them cleared her throat.

"Oh...oh! It's you!" Valarie exclaimed. "From the convention."

"I am the very one," Penelope remarked. She stretched out a hand. "Congratulations. A well-fought match.

Valarie reached out and the pair shook hands.

"If there is any emotion that I am feeling right now," Penelope continued. "It's humble. I will admit, I came into this match half-expecting victory to be in the bag. Especially with an E-100. Though now, it's obvious we'll have to rethink our strategy concerning the beast."

"Yeah, next time, no bridges!" Caroline interjected.

"I must thank you," Valarie said, slightly surprising them. "The Entwicklung series tanks are one of my favorite tank designs, though the A7V will always be my all-time favorite. Still, actually seeing one of them built with steel, not wood, and a E-100 no less is mindblowing. Thank you for making it real."

This drew a smile out of Penelope, who was finding Valarie a more interesting person by the second.

"A pleasure. Now," Penelope said with a long pause. "Your team will now be entering its next phase. Representing the United States on the world stages. Valarie, being a captain, I'm sure you're aware of the stakes involved here."

"I am well aware. I've been a tankery fan far longer than actually being an athlete. I know that the last time the U.S won the world series was in 1975."

"Really?" Emma mused. "That long? Do we suck that bad?"

"It's not just the U.S. No nation in the western hemisphere has won the world tournament since that year. At that level of competition, it has been utterly dominated by Europe and Asia. In Europe, it's usually Germany, France, or Great Britain, and sometimes Russia when they take the title. For Asia, Japan reigns supreme."

"So, what you're saying is," Ashley then asked. "We're not only representing our country but in a way, also representing both of the North and South American continents?"

"That is a perspective that I would agree with," Penelope said. "Hopefully the pressure doesn't get to you all too much," She then reached into one of her pockets and got out a card and handed it to Valarie.

"A...business card?" she wondered.

"Inspired by one. It has all my contact info. Please, do not be shy to contact me for anything. We were once adversaries, but now, I wouldn't mind being friends."

Valarie happily accepted the card.

"Yeah, sure! You aren't the first to do this, and with how this day turned out, wont be the last."

"With that, Valarie Woodlin, I bid you and your team farewell. Have safe travels and good luck in the world competition."

The leadership of Molly Pitcher gracefully departed. Not long after they left, came nearly running Redwood and Buchanan. Upon seeing them, the team raced to them too.

"I just...can't believe it!" Buchanan stammered out. "I knew...I knew I had a great feeling about you kids and you god-damn delivered that!"

"This is a day to certainly remember," Redwood said. "And, with this win, the district will more than likely devote more funding toward tankery teams, meaning we'll get more cash, which will definitely come in handy now that we are going around the world."

There was excitement in his voice but also a tinge of worry. As he went on talking, outside the entrance of their tent, stood another pair of girls. Madison took a deep breath as she psyched herself up for what she was about to do.

"This is it Madi," Alice encouraged. "Part one of your plan."

"I know, I know!" Madison responded with glee. "I've been looking forward to this for months!"

"And not a second longer. Get in there!"

Madison rhythmically tapped the messenger bag she was carrying and walked into Mojave Rose's tent. The team was listening in to Redwood's talking, and as she got close enough, heard what he was saying.

"As you can all guess, being in the world tournament will bring in a set of personal challenges that we'll have to face. Frequent airplane trips, constantly staying in hotels, and then there is the matter of your education. Just because your going around the mean, doesn't mean that your education is on hiatus. We'll be doing remote learning. I haven't hammered out the details, or really started work on it, because, well, honestly I don't have much faith in it. Nonetheless, it'll be a learning experience for all of us."

"Well, might I then offer you guys an alternative?" Madison then spoke.

Everyone focused on her.

"Um, hello. Who are you?" Redwood asked.

"My name is Madison Force from Catalina School of the Arts. I've been paying attention to the exploits of your tankery team, and let me say, I am beyond impressed. So much so, that my school has authorized me to give you this offer."

She opened her messenger bag and got out a folder filled with paper, and handed it to Redwood.

"There's a lot in the offer, so I'll give you a summary. My school operates a carrier that goes around the world every so often. Accept this offer, and they will be honored to host you and take you to your matches, wherever they are. All of your students will have their own dormitories to stay in, a space for their vehicles, and a section of the carrier sanctioned off for your practices. Furthermore, they'll be permitted to take classes on campus so that their education can continue. We are an art school, but our general education classes is top-notch. You can read the specifics in that folder I gave you."

"Will this cost anything?" Redwood asked.

"Not at all," Madison answered. "As I said, you'll be our guests, and for the entirety of the world tournament, you'll all enjoy every service at our pleasure."

Redwood looked at her and then at the folder, amazed.

"Wow...um...we're gonna need a day or two to come to a decision. I want to go through every letter of this offer of yours."

"Perfectly understandable. My contact info is within the folder if you have any questions or ready to pull the trigger."

She made a move to leave but caught sight of Valarie. She lingered for a moment to look at her, then went off and left the tent. Before Valarie could think about what that meant, an official walked in.

"Mojave Rose, ceremony starts in twenty minutes."

"We're on our way." Buchanan told her.

The team marched off toward the direction of the massive tent that was impossible to miss. Buchanan was at the rear of the team when she was accosted by a familiar voice.

"Miss Buchanan."

Turning around, she saw the three ATA officials from the convention. Despite the jovial mood in the air, there wasn't a smile to be seen on their faces.

"Ah, it's soon-to-be Missus." she informed them.

"Congrats," Martha said in a deadpan voice. "We've held up our end of the bargain and would like to see you do the same."

"Oh, yes. The, ah, memos," Buchanan said, digging into to coat pockets and showed them the papers. "Anyone have a light?"

One of the officials gave her a lighter. Buchanan flicked it on and torched the memos until it was just ash, falling to the ground.

"Our business is concluded then," Martha declared. "If things go well, we'll never see each other again."

"Likewise," Buchanan said with a tiny smirk. "Now, I've got a victory ceremony to be a part of if. If you'll excuse me."

The ATA officials watched Buchanan leave. With this part of their day done, they could finally breathe easy.

It was well into the evening now and finally has the rain subsided and the clouds were beginning to break apart, revealing the night sky. The spectators all gathered to the main tent where the victory ceremony was to be held. All of the seats were occupied as the stage was in the final stages of being prepped. In a private area, the Mojave Rose team eagerly awaited for their time in the spotlight. Cameras were just by the stage, ready for their closeup. Valarie sat next to Ray, as since they are the team's leadership, they'll be the main focus.

"I'm getting a bit nervous here," Ray shared. "All those eyes and cameras on us, geez, it's a lot to take in."

"We've been in these ceremonies before," Valarie said. "This one is just bigger."

"Mmm. Guess so."

An official entered their area.

"It's go time."

She led the Mojave Rose team out of their area and toward the stage. The crowd grew louder as they approached, and when they got on the stage, was greeted with cheers and proud whistles. The team formed a neat line on the platform, with Valarie and Ray standing in front of them. An official got on a microphone and began speaking.

"Ladies and gentlemen, what we have just seen was one of the most edge-of-your-seat national final matches on this side of the world, and you all had the esteemed privilege of watching it as it happened. Now, shall the captains of the Mojave Rose tankery team step forward, please."

Valarie and Ray did what was requested of them. The official with the microphone was then joined by another, this one holding a flag. It was a crimson red color, bordered by a luxurious gold thread. On the center was a detailed eagle, made of the same gold thread, flapping its wings as if it was taking flight. Clutched in its claws were tank tracks wriggling like snakes and ammo rounds. Under the eagle was a sewed black inscription which read,

INVICTA

MMXII

"On behalf of the American Tankery Association," the official went on. "We are proud to present to Mojave Rose this victory flag to commemorate this outstanding achievement. And what more. This school will have the honor of representing the United States in the world tournament."

The official presented the flag to Valarie, whose arms, trembling, grabbed it and held it with pride.

"Congratulations on your victory and good luck on the world stage!"

Everyone single eye and camera was on Valarie, nearly overwhelming her. Breathing at steady rates, she calmed herself and looked forward. She hoisted the flag high in the air and waved it, prompting photographers to shower her with seemingly thousands of camera flashes. She stood there, presenting the flag, with an elegant flair. Only one word could accurately describe the emotions she was feeling at that exact moment. Triumphant.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving in, dinner, and a revelation.

_June 24th, 2013_

_Port of Long Beach_

The student council room of Catiline School of the Arts, usually a bustle of activity, now just hosts two people within. One of whom, had her phone pressed against her ear, listening intently. Madison had been waiting for a particular call, one that she had initially thought would take a few days for it to arrive. She braced for another agonizing wait but that, thankfully, was now to happen. Nearby, Alice watched with anticipation to see the outcome of this call.

"I'd say the sooner the better," Madison said on the phone. "If I recall correctly, your first international match is over a month away, so it'd be wise to get everyone firmly settled in way beforehand." The other speaker on the phone talked for a minute, with her listening carefully. "This Wednesday? No, that's not too soon at all. We'll have everything prepared when you arrive for a smooth move-in. Okay? Great! See you then.

The phone call came to an end. Madison gently placed her phone on the table she was and looked content.

"So?" Alice asked her. "Did they accept your offer?"

Madison looked at her with a grin growing a mile a minute.

"They said...YES!" she exclaimed, jumping out of her seat. "They'll arrive at port Wednesday. Everything will need to be ready for them! Everything!"

"Of course, of course. The main thing will be arranging their living situation. Thankfully, we have more than enough dorms-"

"You know what, scratch the dorms," Madison interrupted. "Give them Oceanview Village."

Alice looked at her befuddled.

"Oceanview Village? The campus apartments that were only JUST constructed?"

"Mmmhmm. The new campus apartments that are not really on campus but close enough to call it campus apartments. I think they'll like 'em."

"That building only got connected to the electric grid yesterday!"

"Aren't they furnished already?"

"Well, yeah."

"And, has administration declared them 'fit for habitation?"

"...They have. It's just that, I'm sure they didn't expect people to live in them so soon."

"Then administration will be beyond grateful for the Mojave Rose tankery team to be the first occupants of Oceanview Village so that they can offer the school their invaluable feedback. If administration doesn't like it, well, they can expect serious dips in their donations."

Alice smirked.

"Alright then. That's for the teenagers of the team. What about the two adults? Per school rules, adults are not allowed to live in student habitations. Meaning dorms and campus apartments. That is a rule that not even you can sway the administration to grant exemptions."

"I know how to pick my battles, Alice," Madison remarked with some seriousness. "These adults, a Mister Redwood and Miss Buchanan, will take up residence in the house my parents use when they visit me on the ship."

"So...your parents house?"

"One of a few houses. Really, they seldomly use it. They won't mind it one bit if other people use it. Mostly because...they don't visit the ship much."

"Are their schedules still so busy?"

"Dad is still on deployment and mom is on location in Nevada working on her film."

"And then, there's you, now overseeing this move-in and going around the world. It looks like your family is busy, busy, busy."

"Yeah," Madison said with a sigh. "We see each other less than we liked. A lot less. Thank God for texting and video calls," Madison looked out to the window, seeing the waves of the Pacific ocean go to and fro. A flight of seagulls flew past, singing their calls. "Soon," she uttered. "That won't be the case much longer."

_Barstow_

"The trigger've been pulled, so to speak?" Buchanan asked.

"Mmmhmm," Redwood hummed. "The team will be moving in on Wednesday. By the end of the week, we'll all be at sea. Exciting times, eh?"

"No kidding. And, uh...time to add on to that excitement. Hopefully." she said, gesturing to a little box on the table.

"Oh. Right. Well...that's, ah, on you." Redwood remarked with some embarrassment.

"Yep," she uttered, opening the box and getting out the contents within. "I'll be right back." Buchanan rose from the coach and left for the bathroom. Redwood waited as anticipation filled the room and felt heavy on him. She soon returned after only two minutes, a period of time to him more akin to years, and sat back on the couch.

"So...are you?" he asked nervously.

Buchanan brought the pregnancy test to his eyes.

"It takes a moment for results to come." she told him.

The couple sat together, hands clasped, as they stared at the test. They were dead silent. The anticipation in the air was now hitting Buchanan, whose breathing was beginning the quicken. Their foreheads moistened as sweat began to form. Their hands, joined together, squeezed ever tighter. After the most agonizing wait of their entire lives, the test then yielded a rest. A blue plus sign.

"Oh! There it is! You're pregnant!" Redwood exclaimed with glee, leaping out of his seat. Looking at his wife-to-be, he saw her just sitting on the couch. Tears were flowing her cheeks. The emotions she was going through were too overwhelming to keep her eyes dry. This has been a moment she had dreamed about for nearly all of her life. A moment that she thought was too late to happen.

"I'm..." she began but was choking up. The tears kept flowing and her joy was beyond measure. "Knocked up. My god. It's...happening!" Buchanan hugged Redwood and the two savored the good news.

"The next nine months are going to be memorable, no doubt." he commented.

"Oh yeah. It's gonna be a hell of an experience. Can I count on you for all of this? Pregnancy can be...rough."

"Do you even need to ask?" he said, leaning in to give her a kiss.

In each other's arm, they cuddled on the couch, reflecting on just how much their lives changed in the past few months. After a blissful few minutes, Buchanan then spoke up.

"I suppose it's time to tell the team the news."

"That you're pregnant?"

"Eh? No. About the move-in."

"Ah. That. I'll send a message in the group chat. Though, eventually they will know that you've got a bun in the oven when your stomach gets big. How do we go about informing them about that? And the fact that we are also getting married."

Buchanan thought for a moment then shrugged.

"When the time feels right, I guess."

_Tuesday_

In homes across Barstow, people ready themselves for the journey of a lifetime. The Mojave Rose tankery team are packing up their things to go on a trip. Not on a bus nor a plane, but a ship. A massive one, miles long, and hosting a city on top. A school ship, vessels that have been roaming the seas since the time of the Roman Republic. Ships that only a few people of the team have actually seen in person, with none of them actually being onboard one. The school district wasn't particularly wealthy, not having the funds needed to operate a ship themselves. Though, the student body of Mojave Rose didn't think much about school ships. Being far enough inland, and being in a desert no less, did wonders in tempering that desire. It was a mindset that was quite common in schools far away from the ocean. Nonetheless, the Mojave Rose team was given a grand opportunity to not only visit a school ship but to also live on one for the entirety of the world tournament. To them, this was traveling in luxury. So, when Redwood informed them all that the offer has been accepted and they have to be at the Port of Long Beach by noon in the morning, they all immediately got to getting their things in order. At her home, Valarie along with her mother was in the middle of packing. It was an exciting time for both of them. Along with a tinge of anxiety.

"Around the world, huh?" her mother remarked. "I always knew that was a possibility ever since you told me all about the nationals. So...I'm prepared for it."

"It's just so much to soak in," Valarie noted. "Going around the world and representing the country is, ah, ah, a big huge load on my shoulders."

"I'd wager it's almost as big of a load as not seeing your daughter for months on end." her mother said with a slight smirk.

"Oh, mom. The ship will make port in America at some point in the tournament, I'm sure of it. And when it does, I'll head straight here. That's a promise."

"I know you'll keep it."

They shared a quick hug.

"Now, ah, your clothes are all packed, your computer, and other accessories. What else is there?" her mother mused. She thought for a moment when she then snapped her fingers. "Oh!" She left her daughter's room for just a moment before returning with something in her hands. "Your passport."

"Oh yeah, that thing."

"Heh, I remember your dad making fun of me when I took you to get your passport. He said the chances of any of us leaving the country were nill 'cause vacations were expensive and taking days off was really not feasible for both of us. I explained to him that you never know, with him saying that I'm only doing it so that I can have an excuse to have a formal picture of you. Between you and me, he's completely right. But I'll never admit that to him."

Her mother chuckled as Valarie smiled greatly.

"Now, your passport is good for three more years and so it'll last the whole tournament. It'll act as your ID which means you'll have to protect that thing damn good."

"I will mom, don't you worry."

"Good...ah, this talk reminded me of something. You're old enough to drive, so we'll need to think about getting your license.

"Yeah. Um. Let's take a rain check on that."

"Why? Since you're on a tankery team, surely, you've driven a tank. If you can handle a tank, any car should be a breeze."

"Okay..."

"Great. I've read that school ships are essentially part of the country they are from. So, the ship you're going on is, in a legal sense, American soil. In that case, there oughta be a DMV on the ship."

"Sure, maybe."

"If so, I want you to get the ball rolling on getting your license. It's a whole process. I understand that with the world tournament and all, you may not have all the time to actually do all that. But, ah, let's try before the end of summer?"

"Wait, am I doing this all by myself?" Valarie said, now realizing.

"Yes, you are."

Valarie's face was full of concern and unease. Her mother rose her spirits.

"Is the person whose been shot at more times than can be counted now worried about filling out some forms?"

Her daughter looked at her with eyes filled with a determination she wanted to see.

"Not at all!"

"That's my girl. Alrighty then, we're just about wrapping up here. Everything you need is packed up nice."

"Dad is on his way home, right?"

"He is! He's driving like hell to see you off. He'll arrive at some point in the night."

_Wednesday_

At the crack of dawn, Valarie awoke from a mostly restless sleep. She, along with the rest of the team was way too excited about the events soon to transpire. Moving into a school ship. A check on her phone revealed that it was eight in the morning. Before she could even get out of bed, she received a text from Heather.

"_I'm picking you up after Emma. I'll be at your home at around ten."_

The day prior, Heather has agreed to pick up her friends and drive them all to Long Beach. It would be a nice little road trip for all four of them. She set her phone aside and took a deep breath. Today was going to be special, she could feel it. Getting out of bed, she took a shower and proceeded to get dressed. Ready for the day, she moved her bags from her room to the living room. There, her parents were already up, with breakfast cooked and ready. When she saw her dad, she ran up to him and hugged him.

"I'm so glad you're home!"

"I wouldn't miss this for the world." he said warmly.

Her family then ate breakfast together and after that, they all just chatted about all the recent events of the past few days. Mainly, her parents were listening closely as their daughter passionately retold the events of the national finals. Her mom has already watched the finals on the television, and though her dad was on the road, he has listened to her matches on the radio. They knew what went down, but it was a different experience when someone who was actually there shares what happens. There was a bit of everything. Action, drama, a duel with a monster, and all splashed with a little romance. It hooked them. So much so that they actually expressed disappointment when it neared ten o'clock.

"Heather will be by soon to pick me up," Valarie remarked. Just a moment later, the sound of a car pulling up was heard. "Well. Um. This is it I guess."

Her parents surrounded her and gave her the warmest embrace parents could give to their child.

"Be safe, be smart, and have fun, okay? Be sure to call and text often." her mother told her.

"And not to mention to kick the ass of every country you face off against!" her father exclaimed.

Valarie blushed, and blushed, even more, when her parents kissed the top of her head. With that, she put on her backpack and grabbed her rolling luggage back, and left her home. At the doorway, her parents watched, hands held together, as their daughter walked to the waiting car, stored her things, and drove out of view.

_Noon_

Despite living in California all her life, Valarie had never visited its idyllic beaches. That is, until today. After nearly two hours of driving, she and her friends have arrived at the Port of Long Beach. To say it was an impressive scene would be to undersell it. Cranes lifted containers from piles stacked high onto ships for destinations for ports half the world away. Overhead, seagulls fly about, singing their calls as they looked for their next meal to snatch from someone's hands. When they all caught sight of the Pacific Ocean, it oozed majesty. The water shimmered as it reflected the rays of the sun. And dotted across the sea were numerous boats going to and fro, either sailing with purpose or for pleasure. They drove around a bit and soon found themselves at the place they were supposed to be. Parking, they all got out of the car. They were in the shadow of something enormous. Before them was the _Rembrandt,_ the school ship of Catalina School of the Arts. They gawked at the vessel.

"God damn," Ashley remarked. "It's bigger than I thought."

"I bet it won't even feel like we're at sea once we're onboard." Heather noted.

"I'm just curious as to where we'll be staying in." Emma wondered.

"They'll tell us, surely." Valarie assured.

As they conversed, a man approached them. He was wearing a high visibility vest.

"Excuse me, are any of you the owner of that care?" he asked.

"Yes, it's mine." Heather replied.

"Do you plan on stowing the car on board?"

"That is my plan." she said, handing him the proper permits.

"Great, just hand me the keys and I'll take care of it."

Very reluctantly, Heather complied and gave the dock worker her keys. The girls got their things out of the car and it was soon driven away by the worker for proper stowage.

"If I find a scratch on my car, I'm gonna throw the guy overboard."

"Heather. Chill." Ashley said.

The T-44 crew walked by the ship where they soon met with the rest of their team, eagerly chatting away over what was going on. A ramp from the ship all the way down to where they were was set up for them and soon, came down two girls. They went up to Redwood.

"I'm pleased to see you all here on time and ready," Madison said. "Let's get things moving along. Follow me up the ramp, please."

She led the team up to the ship. There, a bus was waiting for them. On the bus drive to their destination, Madison was on the intercom system explaining to them what was their situation.

"You'll all be living on campus apartments just minutes away from the school, close enough to walk to it. Right now, we're in summer vacation so don't worry about classes right now. Your tanks are in the process of being loaded on the ship. A suitable garage for them has been selected. It too is not too far from your apartments. Now, for how you'll go about with your practices. There is a large park that spans half the length of the ship. There, among the natural environment, is where you'll practice. We'll be sure to cordon off the area to ensure that no one accidentally walks into your activity. Furthermore, I'm sure you're all wondering how you'll, well, eat. To make it easy on us, we're gonna treat you as students of Catalina, which means you are entitled to the dining hall where you can eat free of charge. Additionally, groceries will be delivered to your apartments on a monthly basis if you prefer to cook your own meals," The bus then arrived at its destination. "Cool. Get yourselves settled in. If you have any more questions, feel free to contact me."

The Mojave Rose team got out of the bus and were in the process of getting their bags as Madison approached Redwood and Buchanan.

"Per school policy, adults cannot stay where the students are. I've managed to secure a house for you to live in. The bus will take you there. There are people there to get you both settled."

"A whole house? Well alright! Thank you!" Redwood said.

She departed with a bow and got off the bus with Alice in tow. They were both watching as the Mojave Rose team were collecting their bags, with some already heading toward the apartments to check them out. When her eyes glanced upon Valarie, they widened. Alice could see the look on her face.

"Temper your excitement, Madi. If you blurt it out, all your plans are for naught."

"Believe me," Madison said. "Everything will go exactly as I envisioned it."

With that, the two went up to Valarie. Clearing her throat, Madison got her attention.

"Hello there, Valarie." she said.

"Oh hi. This is all so...magical!" Valarie exclaimed.

"I can totally relate to that feeling. I'll never forget the first time I boarded this ship, years ago."

"All of this stuff you're doing, how can we ever begin to repay you?"

"Not with money, I can assure you. Instead, I was hoping that you'd join me for dinner later this evening. Since we are going to be seeing each other a whole lot, we might as well start getting to know each other right off the bat."

Valarie considered her proposal, nodding enthusiastically.

"That sounds great! What time?"

"Five o'clock."

"Is there a...dress code?"

"No, no. Wear what you like. Now, though dinner is several hours away, I must go and oversee the preparations to see it all goes wonderfully. Alice," Madison then said. "Would you mind giving Valarie and her friends a tour?"

Alice grinned upon receiving such a request.

"It would be my pleasure."

Madison went away toward campus as Alice spoke with the T-44 crew.

"Get your bags in your apartments and come right back outside for the, ah, tour."

They quickly complied, wondering what was meant by 'special' tour. Back outside, they followed Alice as she gave them a tour of the school ship.

"We're a slice of California when at sea," she explained. "We've ensured people have every amenity they need to feel like they never left home. We have an aquarium, plentiful shops for every type of person, restaurants, cafes, arcades, and much more. Hell, I'm sure you can find something not even I know about. Things are always happening here."

"Mmm. How good is your internet when at sea?" Ashley asked.

Alice pointed to a tower in the distance.

"You see that tower? It is the most sophisticated Wi-Fi tower money can buy. We have three around the ship and they provide ~fast~ speeds, bar none."

"Awesome."

"How does this ship do in rough weather?" Emma then questioned.

"Very well, I can assure you. Every building on this ship was built to withstand hurricanes of the strongest magnitudes."

"Has any school ships been lost or missing at sea?" Heather inquired.

"Uhh," uttered Alice. "That's quite the, um, question. But, the answer is no. At least none in the modern era, not even during the world wars. But, I suppose if you dig through the history of school ships far back enough, well, you'd probably find an account of a school ship sinking or going missing."

"Hmm. Okay. Was just curious."

They walked around more, finding themselves in a street with shops on either side. This seemingly normal thing astounded them. It was here they couldn't believe they were on an actual ship. And what more, it was rather quiet. A grand sense of tranquility.

"So, you could really live here all your life, huh?" Valarie wondered.

"Indeed you can. Not everyone who lives on this ship has a child who goes to school. They just love the idea of living on a boat and going around the world."

After some more minutes walking, Alice came to a point at the tour she was very much looking forward to talking about. She stopped and looked at the distance, pointing.

"You see that tower there? That looks like the Space Needle at Seattle?"

The T-44 crew nodded.

"I've got some, ah...interesting information about it," she said grinning. "You see, it was built to be a luxury restaurant that rotated! But something happened and it was abandoned. The school found it was too expensive and the labor needed too painstaking to take it down, so they just left it up. They fenced off the surrounding area and told everyone that it's restricted, but obviously, that doesn't stop some students," She then lowered her voice to a whisper and gestured them closer. "As the building is abandoned, the top floor is nice and private, and since it has a fantastic view of the ship, especially when at sea, it became a popular spot for those same students for..." she trailed off as she couldn't stifle her laughter.

"For what?" Ashley inquired.

"Well, let's just say, some students call the place the, ah, mile high club."

Everyone was blushing and joining in with the laughter. Except for Valarie, who was looking at the tower with a quizzical expression. She snapped her fingers.

"Oh, I get it. People sneak in, go all the way to the top, and hang out."

Alice looked at her amazed. Behind Valarie, Ashley motioned to her to not bother explaining and move along.

"Ummm. Hang out. Yeah, sure. That's what happens. Any who, that concludes the tour. I'd advise you all to return to your apartments to get settled in."

Emma, Valarie, and Heather moved to leave, though Ashley lingered to ask one more question.

"Hey, if I wanted a certain something that I don't have the ah, proper identification for, who do I have to talk to to get it?"

"That depends what is it you want."

Ashley whispered it into her ear. Alice grinned.

"Ah. That can certainly be arranged."

_Later_

It was approaching sunset. In the student council room, Madison was overseeing the last of the preparations for the dinner. An elegant table was arranged right by a window that provided a beautiful view of the ocean. On this table was a fine meal, ready to be enjoyed.

"It is all set, Madison." informed a girl wearing a chef's apron.

"Perfect! It all looks lovely!"

"Madison," Alice spoke to her, "She's on her way. She's a minute out."

"Oh! Everyone, that's your cue to leave! This is an intensely private affair."

All the people in the room departed, with Alice staying for a moment.

"This is it. Everything you've done, has lead to this."

"I'm...trembling."

Alice gave her a hug, comforting her.

"Make this a day to remember."

She left the room leaving Madison alone. She contemplated the dinner she was about to have and became a little anxious. She has thought about this moment for months. Now that it was happening, filled her with intense emotion, but she checked them. She walked over to a nearby cabinet and looked to see if a certain folder is within. It was. Delighted, she walked back to the window and gazed out the window. The sound of the door opening snapped her to attention. Turning around, she saw Valarie walking up to her with a smile on her face.

"I hope I wasn't late." she told her.

"No, not at all. You're right on time actually." Madison said.

The two girls sat at the prepared table. Valarie looked at the food and smelled the aromas they gave off.

"This smells delicious! What is it, exactly?"

"Pork chops with Fig agrodolce. One of my favorite dishes."

"Agro...dolce?"

"A sweet and sour sauce. In this case, balsamic vinegar and honey."

"Pork cooked with honey? Wild."

"Mmmhmm, and it has a bitter radicchio salad that pairs wonderfully with the sauce."

Looking down at her plate, Valarie was mesmerized by how colorful it was, with the greens and reds. With a fork and knife, she cut off a piece and ate a piece of the pork chop. It was divine.

"This is...heavenly!"

"It is, isn't it! Cooking is an art, and as you can see, well, taste rather, Catalina does it well."

"I have no doubts about that." Valarie said as she continued eating.

"Now, tell me a bit about yourself. Start with your parents."

"Oh. Well, my mom is a welder, and my dad a trucker. They work hard...very hard. I love them to death. They do so much for me at the expense of themselves. I always wonder how I can repay them for their sacrifices...though I just don't know how. Maybe...maybe I'm just dreaming too big."

"There's nothing wrong with dreaming big! The love you have for your parents is so wholesome and adorable."

"Thanks," Valarie said with a faint blush. "How about you? What do your parents do?"

"My dad is an admiral in the Navy and my mom is a movie director."

Valarie looked at her in silence for a solid second.

"Damn. That's...that's pretty cool."

"Eh..." Madison said with a sigh. "They are so busy with their jobs that we don't see each other much. Sometimes...I go months between seeing them. It's hard. But when we do see each other, oh man, is it the best feeling in the world."

"Being on this ship for the world tournament means I also have to be away from my parents for months. Yeah, since my dad is a trucker, he is gone from home for a week or two at a time. But I see my mom every day. Now...I'm going to be away from them for months. You've been in that spot since I can only guess your entire life and still, it's hard for you."

"Since I've got experience, if you ever have trouble with being away from your parents, I'll be more than happy to help you out."

"That, I appreciate."

They finished their dinner where Madison then sent a message on her phone. Within the minute, a person came in pushing a tray. She cleaned the table and laid upon it a kettle and associated accessories. Two cups were placed in front of the girls where coffee was then poured. It was foamy, with chocolate grated on top. With a bow, the girl who brought the coffee departed gracefully.

"What better way to end a fine meal than with cappuccinos?"

"Coffee? Isn't that usually a morning drink."

"Usually. But we're huge coffee people here, so we like to have it whenever we want."

Valarie grabbed her cup and took a sip, humming with satisfaction.

"Wow, I would've never guessed coffee can actually taste good."

"It can be so wonderfully delicious. Turkish coffee is my personal favorite and I would've had it served, though, the best Turkish coffee is from Turkey itself."

They enjoyed their drinks for several minutes, with Valarie learning that the drink was becoming a clear favorite. Once she had finished drinking, she set down her cup and was content.

"This is all...so incredible," Valarie told her. "With you letting my team on your ship for the world tournament and this whole fancy dinner, it's all so generous!"

"Of course," Madison said as she took the final sip of her coffee. A grin appeared on her face. "This is what family does."

At the utterance of that statement, Valarie froze, her eyes looking right at Madison. Her mind was racing to see if there was a possibility that she misheard what she said. But the look on her face told her that she heard what she said loud and clear.

"No...you don't mean what I think you mean?" Valarie asked, stuttering her words.

"I do. One hundred percent."

Valarie stood up from her chair.

"But...that can't be! I don't have any cousins with parents like that! I think I would know if I had an uncle in the navy and my aunt was some Hollywood movie director!"

Madison laughed softly.

"Valarie. I'm not your cousin."

The words said by Madison hit Valarie like a runaway train. If Madison was not her cousin, it could mean only one thing. The thought of it put her mind in a whirlwind, she couldn't concentrate on anything. Madison rose from her seat and laid a hand on Valarie's shoulder.

"There is no easier way to say it other than to just say it. I'm...I'm your half-sister."

"No...that...no...that can't be true. I'm an only child!

"Valarie, look closely. We're the same height. Our eyes and hair are the same color and...I bet you have a certain allergy."

"Huh? Allergy?"

Madison went to a nearby drawer and got out a capsule. She opened it and handed it to Valarie.

"Sniff this, please."

Still in shock over what she had just learned, it took a moment for her to do what she was told. She sniffed the capsule and instantly her eyes squinted and put down the capsule. She rubbed her nose as it has become irritated.

"Ugh! What was that?"

"Crushed crab shells. Your allergic to crab."

"What? I didn't know I was allergic. I never ate crab in my life."

Madison put a finger to her chin.

"Interesting."

"I never had crab because they are the ugliest things in the sea."

"And that's why you never knew you were allergic. And, I'm going to guess your dad never ate crab too."

"Yeah, he hates how they look..." Valarie said. The mention of her dad then made her blood boil. "Wait, if you are my...half-sister, then my dad must've...goddammit...the bastard."

"Now, now, before you and your mom tear your dad apart, let me tell you now that no adultery has taken place. Your dad does not know that I exist."

Valarie sat back down at the table and let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank god. If that wasn't the case...Christ I don't wanna think about it. But, how are you my half-sister then?"

"There's an interesting story about that," Madison said, going to a cabinet and getting out a folder. She sat back down.

"To preface, my dad is completely infertile. Absolutely no chance of having children at all. About seventeen years ago, he and my mom were in Barstow visiting friend who was at that army base not too far from there. While at that town, my parents then visited a fertility clinic as they had arranged for a certain kind of appointment. The kind where my mom became pregnant with me. I take it that your dad has his own fertility problems?"

"Yeah, but according to his words, 'lightning struck' and here I am. The question is, how did you come into existence?"

"I've hired a private investigator to solve such a question. It turns out just the week before my parents were in Barstow, your parents visited the same clinic for their own fertility problems. Your dad gave a...sample and was told that the chances of children were low. His sample was then stored in the wrong place by pure accident. When my parents came to the clinic, your dad's sample was inadvertently used, and as it turns out, lightning can strike twice. Once I got older, my parents told me this story once they had enough wine in them. Since then, I became obsessed with finding if I had any possible siblings. All of my efforts lead to you."

"This...this is a lot of information to take in," Valarie said. She took a breath and did some thinking. She then made another revelation.

"You knew we were half-sisters for a while now. This was all...planned from the start. This offer of yours was just so you can meet me?"

"Yes. Everything. I've been watching your team throughout the nationals, since your very first match. I was hoping, praying that you'd win the tournament as that would mean I can extend my offer."

"All of that...for me?"

Madison nodded. "I was prepared to do anything to meet my half-sister. We both mentioned earlier how we are away from our family. That's not the case any longer because we now have each other."

The two of them were looking at each other. Madison looked calm and collected while Valarie looked like she was about to pass out.

"I understand that I dropped essentially a nuke on you, so, I'd suggest you go to your apartment to let everything soak in." Madison then said.

Valarie stood up, struggling a bit as she did.

"Yeah...yeah I'll do that. Thanks for dinner. No chance in hell I'll ever forget this."

"Good night, Valarie."

"Good night."

Valarie was halfway to the door when she stopped and turned her head back to Madison.

"You know...I...I always wanted a sister."

Madison felt her eyes swell with tears. "Me...me too."

Valarie left the room and Madison sat back on the chair. The dinner couldn't have gone any better.

_That night_

In Oceanview Village, the Mojave Rose tankery team were all moved-in and were enjoying their new living space. From campus, Valarie headed straight for the building and went right to her apartment. Inside, she sat on a sofa and contemplated what just happened.

"Holy shit," she uttered. "A half-sister...I'll be damned."

There was then a knock on her door. Opening it revealed her friends. She let them in.

"Hello!" Emma exclaimed. "How was your dinner?"

"Oh, it was nice."

"You look you've seen a ghost." Heather remarked.

"I do? Weird."

"Did something happen at dinner? Did that girl act strange or something?" Ashley asked her."

"Oh, not much happened really. All that happened is that I learned that the girl is actually my half-sister I never knew I had."

They all looked at her flabbergasted.

"Excuse me?" Emma said.

"It's the truth. We're related."

"That messed with your mind, I bet." Heather commented.

"Absolutely it did."

"Well!" Ashley said clapping her hands. "With us winning the nationals and Valarie finding some family, we have all the more reason to celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Valarie asked with curiosity. "Celebrate how?"

With a huge grin, Ashley opened her backpack and revealed a bottle that made them all gasp.

"How the hell did you get that?" Emma wondered.

"Ah, all you have to find the right people to befriend."

"What is it?" Heather questioned.

"Coconut rum. Appropriate, as we are on a ship and all. Would you fine ladies like to have a drink with me?"

They all exchanged eager glances. Valarie headed into the kitchen, got out some drinking glasses, and poured ice in them. Ashley filled their glasses with the liquor, clear in color, and only halfway full. Each girl grabbed their drink and walked to the balcony outside. There, they looked out to the ocean, the moonlight being reflected faintly by the water. They all clinked their glasses and drank the rum, which went down smooth and the flavor nice and sweet. They all leaned on each other as they admired the view. Being together was a feeling of supreme bliss. The love they felt for each other was stronger than steel. As they filled their glasses with more rum, a loud horn boomed throughout the area, followed by the ship moving from its port toward the open ocean. As one adventure comes to a close, another one starts in its place. The Mojave Rose tankery team have gone global, primed and ready to take on any and all challenges coming their way.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sailing toward their destination, the Mojave Rose team get comfortable aboard Catalina's school ship.

_June 27th, 2013_

_At Sea_

A streak of daylight hit Valarie's face, waking her from her sleep. She didn't recall what time she fell asleep. She wasn't on the bed in her apartment, which was still supremely neat and tidy. She had fallen asleep on the couch and felt a huge weight on her. It was Emma, sleeping right on top of her. She didn't mind this one bit, though she wondered why Emma didn't go to her own apartment last night. Moving her head, Valarie then saw Ashley and Heather sleeping on the floor. It was then Valarie felt a headache and was incredibly thirsty. She nudged Emma awake and got up from the couch, and into the kitchen. She poured a glass of ice water and drank it quickly. Her thirst was taken care of, but the headache remained.

"Morning," Emma said to her. She too rose from the couch and went to the kitchen.

"Ugh...morning. Do you feel...sick?" Valarie asked her.

"I do! I feel nauseous and very thirsty."

Velar handed her a glass of water.

"So, what happened last night? All I remember is drinking another cup of rum and everything went blank." Emma questioned.

"I, I can't remember either," Valarie replied. She walked from the kitchen to the balcony for some fresh air and saw quite the sight. The ocean dominated the view, spanning for miles in all directions. It was here the reality of the situation has now thoroughly sunk in. Though, she'd enjoy the view more if she didn't have this splitting headache. Returning back inside, she saw the rum bottle and picked it up. It was bone dry.

"Geez, did we drink all of it?" she remarked.

Ashley was heard laughing.

"Hungover, are we?"

"Oh, so this is what people mean when they are hungover," Valarie said. "This sucks."

"To honest, as far as hangovers go, this isn't too bad."

"You drank alcohol before?"

"Just a handful of times. Are you really surprised?"

"Well, no, not really."

Heather was the last of them to wake up. She got off the floor and managed her hair, which got all messy from sleeping on the ground. The first thing she did was get out her phone and checked something on it, getting a smirk out of her.

"Hmm. That's funny." she remarked.

"What is?" Valarie asked.

"It seems that I took pictures from last night. This one, in particular, is very interesting"

The girls gathered around Heather and saw the photos on her phone that she had taken. All of them turned red.

"Oh my..." Valarie uttered.

"That's uh...wow." Emma let out.

Ashley was the reddest of them all.

"Well. How about that."

The photo was a selfie of Heather looking calm and content as Ashley had her arms wrapped around her trying to make-out with her, but as she was the drunkest of them all, failed spectacularly. They were all giggling maniacally.

"You know, Ashley," Heather said. "People usually go on a date before kissing. But, you were so drunk you couldn't even do that."

"In that case," Ashley said, grinning. "Wanna go out on a date?"

Heather chuckled softy. "Oh, yeah, sure. Good joke."

"I'm not joking though."

Everyone fell silent, with Heather looking at Ashley with total confusion.

"You...want...to go on a date...with me?" she stammered out. "Uh, uh, can I, um, think about this?"

"Sure. Don't keep me waiting for too long, though."

Emma and Valarie exchanged smiles as they watched this thing go down. Wanting to change the subject, Heather asked a question.

"So...where is this ship heading to?"

"Huh. I don't know." Valarie admitted.

It was at that point all of them received a text on their phone. They all read the message. Valarie was the first to speak.

"Looks like we're about to find out. Let's head out and try to act like we never drank."

The girls went to their respective apartments and put on fresh clothes and doused their faces with cold water. As they made their way to leave the apartment building, they saw that the rest of the team had received the same message and heading to the same location they were going. The team traveled in one large group down the street, toward the center of the ship. Ten minutes of walking got them to a garage. Excitement taking hold of them, they all started to sprint to the building. From the get-go, they saw that it was substantially bigger than their own garage back in Barstow. Not only was it wider, but it had a second floor. Entering the garage from a side door and they were hit with a rush of cold air, as air conditioning units kept the interior of the garage at a cool seventy degrees Fahrenheit. It was here that the team was reunited with their vehicles, the sight of them causing some to run up to them. Buchanan was there to meet them and let the team look at their tanks for a few minutes before grabbing all of their attention with the blow of a whistle.

"Alright guys, I've got some news," she began. The team gathered around her and paid their full attention. "To answer the question you all have, this ship is heading for Ireland."

"Oh! Is that where our first match is?" Mia asked with eagerness.

"No," Buchanan denied. "I'll get to our first match soon. We are going to Ireland because a school there is going to teach us the basics of how international tankery matches are undertaken. This particular school has seen its fair share of international matches, so it's safe to say that they know what they are talking about. Next, practices will be held as usual on Saturdays. Our meetings will still be held daily, and since we're in summer vacation, we will start at nine in the morning. Now, about our first match..."

_Rome, Italy_

The historical city was abuzz with activity as it was during its glory days. In a villa located on a hillside, a girl sat on a table looking out to the city. She was wearing a simple sun dress as the weather has been warm in recent days. She was deep in thought. As she pondered, her best friend arrived and joined her.

"Cesena," her friend said. "Are you aware of recent events?"

Cesena turned to face her friend. "I am, Labina. I am always on top of things."

They both grinned.

"I was just making sure," Labina told her. "So, what is your take of all of this?"

"I haven't done much research on the American team we will be facing off against next month, though what I did learn was thought-provoking. This team has only relatively been created the previous year, and before that, the school it's a part of didn't have a tankery team for nearly two decades."

"So, a school that resurrected its tankery team where it then went on to win their national finals, despite the odds? My, where have I heard that story before?" Labina remarked with a soft grin.

"I see where you're going at. I don't think the comparison is entirely accurate, however."

"How so?"

"Mojave Rose didn't have to fight for their school's existence."

"Well...now you're being nit-picky."

"No? I'm not? That was a pivotal part of Ooarai's ordeal."

"Sure, sure. Anyway, do you have a strategy for our match with them?"

"We're about a month away from the match...but yes...I do."

"And what do you have in mind?"

"We go, we see, we conquer. Like always."

"The simplest plans are often the best, isn't it?"

"Indeed, but!" Cesena then yelled, standing up and startling Labina. "Even the simplest plans demand practice for the greatest execution."

She retreated inside the villa and soon came back wearing her uniform.

"Message the team! Practice begins at the top of the hour."

_Catalina's Carrier_

It was approaching the early afternoon and that day's meeting has come to an end. All of the team's tanks that have suffered damage during the national finals were repaired. The M5 Stuart was dealt the most damage compared to the rest of the team. As the tank received a brutal hit from the 150mm main armament of the E-100, Mia and her crew had to work a lot to get their little tank back to being combat-ready. As it was the turret that was hit, the crew had to fix the biggest dent they have ever seen. It was a laborious and exhaustive affair, that once it was over, left them with a feeling of pride and accomplishment.

"Well, that's about as close as brand new we are going to get." Mia noted.

Even still, a hit from an E-100 will leave a scar.

"I just hope we never get hit from such huge guns again," Olivia said with fading optimism. "Ah, who am I kidding. It's gonna happen again and it's gonna suck!"

The pain from being jostled around inside their tank from the impact was still fresh in their minds. Frankly, they were all surprised that bruises were the worst injuries they've received. With the meeting over, people were heading either back to their apartments or going out to explore the ship. Ray was about to head back to the apartments when then Natalie grabbed him by the hand and led him outside, around a corner where they can speak privately. The look on her face told him that something has been bothering her.

"Judging by your expression," Ray said. "You didn't drag me here to make out."

"No," she said with some seriousness. "We can do that later. But...something has been on my mind for the past few days that I just can't stop thinking about."

Ray grabbed both of her hands and held them tenderly. "What's wrong?"

"I've had this feeling ever since you shared the combat histories of the team's tank. Specifically mine."

"Oh," he said solemnly. "I get it."

Natalie's gaze went from him to the ground, and back at him again. She inhaled deeply.

"I said I didn't want to know but all this wondering is just eating at me. Tell me, Ray, did the unit my tank was once a part of commit any war crimes?"

He looked a bit uncomfortable, his face one of hesitation. "Just two that I could find. One involved a medical officer that fired on American troops from a Red Cross-marked ambulance. The second was where some members of the unit found American airmen from a crash, killed two of them, and severely beaten the third. The man who did the killings was tried and executed post-war, while another was sentenced to prison."

Natalie sunk her face into her hands and groaned. "Oh, lucky me! The girl with German ancestry has a tank that was once part of a unit that did war crimes!"

"Hey, hey," Ray said in a comforting voice, caressing her cheeks. "The crimes they've done pales in comparison to other Waffen-SS units. I mean, God, some of them did real awful things."

"Sure. But at the end of day, my tank used to be part of the Waffen-SS and that alone is depressing."

They both leaned against the outside wall of the garage, and slide down until they were now sitting on the ground. Ray held her hand with the utmost gentleness.

"Think about it this way," he said softly. "Your tank, and every single other, was designed, manufactured, and deployed for one purpose; to kill. The wars they were built for are long over. Now, they have been repurposed for something more positive, something noble. You know the marketing for the sport. It's what made you yell at me when we met."

She grimaced. "Yeah, I do."

"For women to grow their self-esteem, assist them in becoming professional and efficient citizens and develop the characteristics necessary to become good wives and mothers," he said, quoting verbatim marketing material he has read. "Reword it a bit to include guys but the point still stands. The sport of tankery gives these war machines a new lease of life. Instead of to kill, they are used to mold young people into the best adults they can be. Does it fully absolve the sins of your tank and every tank that has done heinous things? No," He then stood up and pulled up Natalie from the ground. "But it's a huge step in the right direction."

Natalie grinned from ear to ear. "That makes me feel a lot better. Hey, ah, I'm hungry. Wanna go eat somewhere?"

"Oh! I know a good spot."

She laughed. "You've been on this ship just barely a day and you already know a good place to eat? I'm not surprised. Not surprised at all."

_Later_

A nice little benefit of tankery meetings starting in the mornings now is that the afternoons became a lot more available to do all sorts of things. For this afternoon, Valarie elected to spend her time in her apartment. Not only was the revelation the previous evening still has her in a daze, but also the prospect of having an apartment of her own made her incredibly excited. It was not just a room or a dorm, but has a kitchen, bedroom, and living room, among other amenities. It will provide her, and the rest of the Mojave Rose tankery team, the wonderful opportunity to learn how to live independently. Yet, above all the things her apartment provides her, what excited her the most was the fact that was a desk. A modern looking one. A piece of furniture that if she saw it in the store, would be too expensive for her family to afford. What was great about it was that it was before a window that offered a majestic view of the ocean. Sat at it, she was reviewing the playbook, periodically looking up to catch glances of the blue waters. Over the course of the nationals, the playbook was been extensively worked upon not only by her, but also by the other commanders of the team. Everyone contributed their advice and experiences. A contribution from Mia stated,

_"When commanding light tanks, consider the following; a big enough gun fired at you can and will send you flying."_

Under that was something from Jacqueline,

_"Self-propelled guns can excel in knocking out threats at very close quarters. Once."_

The latest entry was from Louise,

_"The environment. Respect it. It can take out the enemy far better than any gun can."_

Doing a bit more reviewing, she closed the playbook and pushed it aside. She stared out of the window for a minute when a knock at her door caught her attention. Going and answering it revealed to be Madison. She looked cheerful and gave Valarie a smile, who returned one in kind.

"Hi," she greeted. "May I come in?"

"Sure, sure." Valarie said, gesturing her in.

The girls at on a couch and got to chatting.

"Don't take this the wrong way or anything," Valarie said. "But, I am wondering how soon do we return to California?"

"August. To pick up the new batch of incoming freshmen. We'll be there for the weekend."

"Oh, that's not too terribly far away."

"Already planning on seeing your parents, I see"

"And, um, in a way, also yours."

Madison looked at her blankly for a moment. "Yeah. We share the same...dad."

"I plan on telling them what you told me when August comes."

"Right. They should know. Um. That's gonna be some conversation."

"No doubt. I want you to come with me. They need to see you with their own eyes."

"Okay," Madison said with some hesitation. "Um...how will they react to...me?"

"To put it lightly? Surprised. But let me tell you this, my parents have told me a few times before that they wanted to give me a sibling. But, no dice. Them meeting you will fulfill that wish. They'll be happy meeting you, once the shock goes away."

Put at ease, Madison rubbed her hands together. "So. What do sisters do together?"

Valarie shrugged. "I dunno. Gossip? Dates?"

"Dates!" Madison exclaimed. "Are you seeing anyone? You got a boyfriend back home, waiting for your return all romantic-like?"

Valarie couldn't contain herself from laughing. "Ha! No. I do have a _girlfriend_ who is part of my tank crew."

"Oh," Madison remarked with surprise. "What's her name?"

"Emma. Emma Gray. We've known each other for nearly ten years and only in the past few months have we really started dating. We confessed our love at the same time, you know, as rain fell on us. I couldn't ask for anything more romantic. Which...reminds me. I've been meaning to ask if there are any rules against people sharing apartments."

"No, there isn't," Madison answered with a smile. She knew where Valarie was going out. "I'll have you know, your bed is more than enough for two people to share."

"That is good to know. Now, onto you. Are you seeing anyone? Boyfriend? Or maybe even a girlfriend?"

Madison sighed. "I don't have a good track record when it comes to dating. Been in five relationships, four guys and a girl, all ending in break-ups. All of those experiences makes me think. Is there's something wrong with me or did I just have bad luck?"

"Well, I've only known you for about a day, but I'm leaning towards you having bad luck."

"Yeah, I think that way too. Mainly because it makes me feel better. Hey, gotta ask. That Hispanic guy on your team, the tall one. He...ah...single?"

"Sorry. Taken."

"Damn," Madison muttered as she sunk into the couch. "Well, at least I'm disappointed now rather than later." She sighed again. "I'm not asking too much to find someone to love, am I?"

"No, of course not." Valarie comforted. "You'll find the one sooner or later, I'm sure of it."

"Man, I hope so. Cupid is taking his damn time."

The conversation fell silent for a few moments. It was a little awkward.

"You, ah, heard where we are sailing to?" Madison then asked.

"Yeah. Ireland."

"Have you ever been?"

"I never left America, so no."

"Oh, well, then you are on the opportunity of a lifetime. Seeing the world and all."

"A dream come true. And all of this essentially for free."

At the utterance of those words, Madison grinned and then stood up from the couch and paced around the room.

"Yes. Free. Tell me, Valarie, is your team yearning for more equipment?"

"Always. In fact, over the past few weeks, we've been looking everywhere for another tank before the nationals but nothing came up. Now, with going around the world, that'll widen the search quite a bit. And not to mention all the other things we constantly need."

"Such as?"

"Ammo, fuel, and replacement parts when things inevitably fail. Those three are the most important. But we got enough funds on hand to take care of those things for the foreseeable future."

"Hmm, what about quality-of-life things?"

"I, uh, I don't understand."

"During the nationals, I have closely examined various teams to gauge their level as at the time, any of them could have gone against your team. I have seen some teams have certain equipment that yours does not possess."

"Like what?"

"The most obvious thing I've seen is camouflage nets."

"Ooh! Camo nets?" Valarie remarked with excitement. "That would be great to have! For so long, whenever we had to hide our tanks, we had to scavenge the local environment. Like, tree branches and bushes and hastily put them on our vehicles. With camo nets, it'll make hiding them so much easier!"

"We can get them in various types. Ones for deserts, forests, snow, and so on."

"Cool, cool. What other equipment did you see."

"Tablets."

"...Tablets?"

"MmmHmm. Tablets. Teams use them instead of paper maps. You use maps, yeah?"

"We do."

"Are they always easy to read?"

"Well, not always. Sometimes, things can get dark"

"With a tablet, then, your maps will always be easy to read and you can have a satellite view of the battlefield as well."

"That would be pretty nice actually."

"And what more, by installing GPS devices on your tanks, you can track the location of your team at all times."

Valarie was stroking her chin with a grin.

"Okay, it all sounds great. But tablets for each of the commanders sounds a bit pricey."

"Ah, don't worry about the price. I'll secure the nets and tablets."

"Your school will be paying them?"

"Yes," Madison said with faint hesitation. "The school."

"That is very generous. Even more so considering everything else."

"You're our guests and it's only right that our guests are nice and spoiled," Madison then snapped her fingers as a thought has just entered her mind. "Hey, you want to go on a tour?"

"Didn't I already go on one?"

"Yes, but that was just the town. This tour will be of the campus. I'll personally show you what Catalina has to offer for her students, which does include you. Classes for you and your team start in August."

"Right, right. I'll go. Right now?"

"No, not right now. Tomorrow. Let's say, after your meeting?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Great! Now, I have some matters to attend to," Madison said. Valarie then too stood up. "I'll see you later."

They were looking at each other in a silence devoid of any awkwardness. In both of their minds, they were still processing the fact that they were related. Even though Madison was aware of this fact for months, now actually standing before her half-sister has brought waves of emotion that in no way could she prepare for. Again, her eyes began to tear up. Valarie moved forward and wiped them away, not noticing that her own eyes were equally as wet, and hugged her.

"This tour you planned is your way of making up for lost time, in a way." Valarie remarked.

"Oh, God, yes," Madison replied. "You and I are gonna really become _sisters_ in the coming months."

"That, I cannot wait."

Madison left soon thereafter, leaving Valarie to return her attention back to her playbook. Else in the apartment complex, just down the hall, Heather laid in bed staring at the ceiling. She has been like this since the meeting ended. Physically, she was alone. The same cannot be said mentally.

_"Do you think you're actually worthy of being loved?"_

"Everyone is worthy." she replied silently.

_"But you? Specifically? No. Not at all."_

"I know myself and the answer is yes."~

_"Ah, but I know you better than anyone else on this earth for I live inside your damn mind. I'll never go away."_

"That remains to be seen."

_"Bitch. You're as stupid as ever!"_

There was a knock at the door.

"It's time for you to leave."

No response. Cautiously pleased over this, she got up from her bed and walked over to her door. Looking through the peephole revealed that it was Ashley.

"Alright...keep it cool." she told herself.

She opened the door.

"Heyo, Heather. What's, ah, what's up?" Ashley greeted

"I'm still on the fence about our so-called 'date'" Heather replied.

"Just straight to the point, huh?" Ashley remarked. "Some people don't like people who do that. I do, though."

"Noted."

"Alright, look. It doesn't have to be a date-date, but just an excuse for us to hang out. Just me and you."

Heather looked off into the distance, contemplating, with her faintly nodding.

"I'd like that." she said, gesturing her in to enter. Ashley did so and the two sat down on a sofa.

"So, I gotta apologize." Ashley then said.

"About what?"

"Well, about last night. Where I tried to...kiss you."

"I'm not upset about that at all."

"Still, it wasn't right."

"I accept your apology then, just to make you feel better."

"I appreciate that," Ashley said with a grin which lasted only briefly as she wanted to ask a question of a serious nature. "Heather, do you still hear, um" she hesitated. "...Voices?"

Heather gave her a look, a soft look. "Yeah. Sometimes."

"Do you...talk with them?"

Heather nodded.

"Woah. Is it multiple voices or the same one each time?"

"The same voice every damn time."

"What does it sound like."

"Like my own...but different. I can't explain it. Always hurtful. Insulting. Demeaning. And at times...persuasive."

"And you've said you've been dealing with this for how long?"

"As long as I can remember."

"Why don't you get help or something? Like, tell your parents."

"No," Heather said with vigor. "I'm terrified."

"Of what?"

"Leaving."

Ashley was puzzled and her face showed it. "Leaving?"

"If I tell my parents, they will want me to go back home. I already go to therapy for my anger. If they learn that I hear voices, they'll want more therapy and will pull me out of school. I...I don't want that. I don't want to leave! I want to be here!" Heather exclaimed, her breathing intensifying. She felt panic gripping her. Ashley grabbed both of her shoulders.

"Breathe, Heather, breathe. You are not leaving." she comforted.

"You...you have to help me when I'm at my worst. No one can know...this has to be kept private!"

"I will, I will. But Valarie and Emma have to know too. All of us are gonna be spending much more time together. What you have can't be kept in the dark."

Heather inhaled deeply.

"You're right. I'll tell them. You'll be with me when I do, yeah?"

Ashley moved to grab her hard. "Hell yeah, you're not going through that alone."

They both reclined as far back as they could on the sofa. Heather felt a rush of comfort hit her, feeling like bliss. The two girls were just now lounging around, enjoying each other's company. Looking down, she noticed that Ashley was still holding her hand. And what more, their fingers were interlocked. She was blushing, and when Ashley now noticed, blushed as well. They gaze then turned to each other's eyes. Heather grinned faintly.

"Can't wait to see if 'hanging-out' is really what you mean."


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valarie and Madison learn more about each other. What fun.

_Friday, June 28th 2013_

_At Sea_

Yesterday marked the first full day the Mojave Rose team has been at sea. For a ship of immense size, they were making rapid progress as now the vessel is some miles from the coast of Mexico, heading south toward the Panama Canal to cross into the Caribbean and finally onto the Atlantic Ocean toward the United Kingdom. Though the ship was rather speedy, Ireland was still days away so the team had a lot of time to kill between now and then. Thankfully, not only did they have their meetings to occupy their time daily, but they also had a whole town to explore. The town that the _Rembrandt_ hosted was carefully designed and created to be a slice of Long Beach. Consequently, there is a heavy beach vibe. Flanked on every street are palm trees, tall and vibrant. Not too far from the apartment complex the Mojave Rose team are staying in, is an artificial beach. Sand acquired from California beaches surround a lake. The minute swaying of the ship creates waves on this lake, which splash upon the beach. This area is a popular spot, with crowds commonly seen at all times of the week. Especially now since it was summer vacation. With that and so much more, no one on the team can ever say they are bored.

Lounging in her apartment, Valarie was just laying in bed. She had just awoken a few minutes ago from a restful slumber. The reason why wasn't some grand mystery. Snuggled with her, arms holding on tight was Emma. She had moved in with her the previous evening and what followed was a dream come true. Them living together. Sharing a bed. The sound of her soft breathing as she still slept was pure bliss. She ran her fingers through her hair, being careful not to wake her up. With her other hand, she reached for her phone and saw that two messages have been sent to her. One from each of her parents. Her mother's message read,

_"_ _ R_ _ight before leaving for work in the early mornings, I take a peek in your room to see you sleep. I've been doing that since your bed was a crib. Yesterday, when leaving for work, I reflexively looked into your room and felt a wave of emotion when I didn't see you there. I've done that before, you know, as you were away on your matches for the nationals. But this time, it moved to a point where I teared up. And it was because this time around, you'll be gone for months at a time. Your dad and I already miss you fiercely, as equally as we are proud of you. Good luck and stay safe. Give our best to Emma. Talk to you again soon."_

Valarie could feel her throat tighten. She took some breaths to compose herself and read the other message. This one from her father.

_"Val, we already don't see each other very much on account of my work. Sometimes I wish I bothered with college so I could get a job that allows me to stay close to home. But that window is long gone. Now, with you going to different countries and such, we won't be seeing each other for a good long while. It hurts, and I'm not too macho to admit that it makes cry. Only just a little though. I hope you have the time of your life, sweetheart. I hope that you have days that will never leave your memory. I can share with you a day that I'll never forget. Your birth. After being told for so long that we can't have kids, you come along. A gift from God, that's what you are. Good luck and kick lots of ass, alright? Oh, and I have just recently found out you and Emma are dating. About time!_ _"_

Her phone fell from her hand and onto the bed, for she lost the strength to hold that device for a second longer. She stared right up to the ceiling, tears freely flowing. She didn't bother trying to compose herself as she knew nothing would stop her from crying. The love her parents have for her was immensely strong and loved them with every fiber of her being. But she also felt anger. Anger that she could not reciprocate all that they have done for her. Her crying and sniffles were audible enough that it aroused Emma from her sleep. She took a moment to get alert and turned to look at Valarie, her eyes red and moist.

"...Valarie? Why are you crying?" she said in a soft voice.

Emma was shown the messages and then nodded in understanding. "Oh. I get it."

"How is it fair, Emma?" Valarie then said. "That I live, essentially, a life of luxury while they don't? Don't they deserve it too?"

"Of course, but understand that they are doing what parents do. Putting their child before them. If you had a child of your own, what would you do for them?"

"Anything. I'd move heaven and hell for them."

"See? You understand."

"Yes...but...I'm terrified."

"Of what?"

"Terrified that one or both of them lose their jobs. You know what happens after that."

"I do, Valarie. It still hurts me when I think about it."

"If that happens, god forbid, what makes me feel furious is there won't be anything I can do about it. Just like last time. If it happens, they'll tell me to stay here and focus on the world competition even though my mind and body will want to go to them. I just...I just want them to live comfortably and not on a whim."

Emma moved in closer and embraced her, nuzzling her face into Valarie's neck. "That day will come. It will. All of their sacrifices will be repaid."

Valarie then grabbed Emma's hand and moved it toward her lips so that she could lay a kiss on them, followed by a kiss on her own lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Emma said with warmth. "Now, ah, what time is it?"

"It's about to be nine." Valarie replied.

"Let's see, the meeting starts at ten. So we gotta be ready by nine-fifty to make it on time."

"So, what you're saying is, we have around fifty minutes to shower each other in kisses?"

"You understood me crystal clear."

* * *

"Could you run that by me again? You agreed to do _what_?"

"Buy tablets and other equipment for them." Madison explained.

"And the school is paying for that?"

"No. They won't do that. Letting them leave for free, eat for free, and sail to their matches around the world is the extent the school is willing to go. Don't see this the wrong way, them doing it at all is generous. But their generosity has a limit. Where they stop helping, I gotta take over."

"Wait, you're paying for this yourself?" Alice asked, surprised.

"Yes. Really, camo nets and thirteen tablets barely make a dent in my allowance."

"Barely a dent, huh," Alice said, crossing her arms. "What did I say about acting like a stereotypical rich girl?"

Madison became red in the face and looked down toward the floor. She sighed.

"I know, I know. I remember."

"Does she know you're from a rich family?"

"I did tell her what my parents do but not really into the specifics."

"So, she has an inkling at best."

"Yeah..."

"All she has to do is look up your mom online and she'll get a great idea of how much wealth your family has."

"Mmm. Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Madison said. She checked the time. "It's about to be noon. They are at that garage near the village for their meeting right now, yeah?"

"Yes, they should be." Alice confirmed.

"Ah good," Madison said as she put on her shoes. "I'm going over there to see them."

"Okay? Why?"

"Well, I've seen them shooting. I want to see them when they're not. You know, all the maintenance and all. It's an aspect of the sport that you don't see."

"Well, you have fun. As for myself...I've got a date!"

"What?!"

"Mmmhmm. A date. A girl from the carpentry club. You know her, Charlotte."

"Yeah, I know her. The tall one with brown hair and freckles."

"Yep, her and I are gonna spend the day going from coffee shop to coffee shop to taste a bit of everything. Bye-Bye!"

Alice left with a smile and a pep in her step, leaving Madison alone in her room, hands at her hip.

"Date. Brag about, why don't you?" she remarked with yet another sigh. After a moment more of contemplation, she smirked. "Well, at least one of us is dating."

She finished getting ready and departed her dorm building and walked toward the garage. Approaching the building, the sounds coming from it grew louder. The sounds of tools at work and people chatting, with some laughter mixed in here and there. She reached a side door and peered her head through and took an eyeful within. She saw the Mojave Rose team tending to their vehicles. It was an amazing sight, seeing such historic machines in person rather than on a screen. She entered the garage and only took a few steps before a girl then walked up to her. A girl younger than her and of Hispanic descent.

"Hey, um, I dunno if you're allowed here. Not unless...are you part of a new crew? Did we get a new tank?" she asked her.

"Oh, I'm not part of any crew. I'm just here to see you all do your thing."

"Okay. Um. I'm still not sure if you're allowed—"

"Ah, Marielle," said a voice. Turning toward its source and it was Iris, the gunner of the VK. "I think that girl is the one who made it possible we're on this ship in the first place."

Beet red, Marielle looked back at Madison. "Uhhh, don't kick us out!"

"Oh, please, don't sweat it. Though, if it is a genuine rule that I cannot be here, I'll gladly leave. No-fuss."

"Oh, don't leave. There is no such rule," Buchanan then said. "Take a good look around. We're all friendly here, though if someone says to be careful, you oughta listen."

"I will, thank you."

Madison began to stroll around the garage, looking at all the students working on their tanks. Being this close really gave her a proper sense of scale. They were all far bigger than she thought. The first vehicle she walked up to was the SU-14, the biggest of the lot. Her eyes darted about to take in all the detail she could, then laid a hand on the side of the hull, feeling the cold steel.

"It's cool, huh?" a girl said. "It packs one hell of a punch."

"Oh, I can tell just by looking at it. What is your name?"

"Jacqueline. I'm the commander of the school bus, as we have come to call it."

"School bus," Madison remarked with a chuckle. "That's a good name for it.

"Wanna see something really wild?" Jacqueline then said, eyes filled with excitement. "Come around the back here."

Curiosity gripping her, Madison followed Jacqueline to the back of the SU-14. There was a collection of crates. Some of which were opened. Jacqueline went to one and got something heavy out of it.

"This little thing right here," she said, voice slightly strained. "Is the warhead of a 152mm shell. It's two-stage ammunition. The warhead is loaded into the breech followed by the propellant casing."

"Fascinating. How many people are in your crew?"

"Six in all. Me, the commander, a driver, two gunners, two loaders. Fun fact about our gunners and loaders. They're all sisters."

"All four of them?"

"Yep. All born the same day. They're quadruplets."

Jacqueline then pointed to them and Madison was in awe. It was like seeing clones.

"How the hell do you tell them apart?"

"They look identical, but once you spend enough time with them on and off the battlefield, damn, do you learn just how different each one of them is."

Madison thanked Jacqueline for her time and continued walking around the garage. The next vehicle she arrived at was the ACIV. There, the crew was inspecting their tracks and tightening them as necessary. Madison watched with intrigue right behind them, captivated by the process. It wasn't long before the ACIV crew felt they were being watched.

"Oh hey. Are we being graded?" Robin joked with her.

"I don't know anything with whatever you are doing but I'm sure it's important. So, ah, how big is that gun of yours?"

"A quick-firing seventeen-pounder. Wanna know why it's called a seventeen pounder?"

"Well, I don't think its because each round costs seventeen pounds."

"Ha, well, actually, they do. Roughly anyway. But that's not the reason. The reason why is because the shell weighs seventeen pounds."

"Ah. I knew there was some logic behind it. Leave it to the British to stand out, eh?"

"Yep. But this tank, in particular, ain't from Britain. It hails from Australia."

"Australia? Very cool. I've vacationed there. Great place. Love its deserts."

"Was it hot?"

"It's always hot over there."

Bidding farewell, she moved along, Madison then sighted the T-44 at the far end of the garage. She headed right for the tank, though she then happened to glance at the Sherman Jumbo and slowed her walk. There, she saw a girl by the American tank, the only one who was silent while her other crew members were talking. Then, another girl approached her, made some gestures with her hands, which made the silent girl grin. Madison was smitten. The quiet girl had long brown hair slung over one of her shoulders and her pupils were black as the tranquil night. The two girls then matched eyes and both instantly blushed. The quiet girl then smiled, revealing her adorable dimples. They both looked away from each other after a moment and Madison continued on her way to the T-44, taking several deep breaths as she did. There, she saw the crew. Not working, but rather just lounging around. Her presence was noticed not too long after.

"Ah, let me guess," Ashley said to her. "The half-sister."

"That would be me." Madison confirmed.

"God, I can see it. Taking a good look at you and I can see all the similarities. You two are related, no doubt about that."

Emma and Heather then appeared out of the tank and hopped off it.

"So you're my girlfriend's half-sister?" Emma remarked. "Wild."

"What's your name?" Heather asked in a blunt manner.

"Madison."

"Full name."

"Um. Madison Force."

Ashley couldn't stifle her small laughter, which made the people around her look at her oddly.

"Is there a joke I'm missing?" Madison asked.

Valarie then jumped out of her tank and joined them.

"Hey, what's up?" she greeted.

"A joke...I think?"

"I was just thinking about your last name," Ashley shared. "You related to Scarlet Force?" she said with more laughter.

"Yeah, she's my mom."

"Bullshit." Ashley said.

"No bull. I've got proof." Madison explained. She got out her phone and showed Ashley pictures of her mother. She was stunned. And convinced.

"No...way!" Ashley exclaimed. "Your mom is _the_ Scarlet Force?!"

"She sure is."

The excitement from Ashley spread to Emma and Heather, who understood the significance. It was Valarie who was flummoxed over all of this. She watched as her crew fangirled hard, incredibly amused.

"Oh. My. God!" Emma let out. "Her movie about the civil war is my all-time favorite! Oh! The scene where the mother holds her dying son after being shot makes me cry every time! And then there's the part about the 54th Massachusetts regiment and their frontal assault on Fort Wagner. Pure chaos."

"Oh, man!" Ashley exclaimed with glee. "My personal favorite is the one with that bomber crew during World War II. It crashed landed in the heart of German territory and they had to hold their position until help arrived, using their gun turrets to fight off the Germans. That movie is so damn cool."

"I enjoy your mother's work," Heather added. "Especially ever since she branched out to do documentaries. I love the one about alien visitations, so much. That segment about Skinwalker Ranch has stuck with me ever since I first saw it. Was it true that a horse she brought to the place was later found dead, gutted with surgical precision and not a speck of blood was on the grass?"

"That's what she told me. I believe her."

"I do too. One hundred percent."

"Okay, okay," Valarie now interjected. "What the hell is going on?"

"Valarie, I've told you my mom was a movie director." Madison told her.

"Yeah but, I didn't know she was like...famous."

"Oh Val, wait till you see her net worth." Ashley said. She was on her phone and searched for something on it. She then presented it to Valarie.

"Thirty..." she said at first. Then her eyes widened. "Thirty _million_?!"

Madison felt awkward and shifted her gaze to the floor. "...Well. Now you know. Though, you should've already had an idea that I come from a rich family."

"I figured that since this is a private school and all, but, damn, your _rich_."

"Does this, um, change anything between us?"

"Obviously, yes, but not for the worst."

Madison internally breathed a sigh of relief. "Right then! Is your meeting almost at an end? You and I got a tour to go on."

"Ah, it's hard to say sometimes. They end whenever Miss Buchanan says so. Come on," Valarie the said, extending a hand. "I'll show you to a proper seat."

Valarie led her sister up the T-44 and sat her right on top of the turret. She let her sit there as the crew resumed their routine tasks, with Madison watching with great interest. An hour went by like the snap of one's finger. Buchanan soon dismissed the team and they made their way out of the garage. Madison, with Valarie in tow, quickly went off toward campus. Ashley was almost out of there when Buchanan then stood in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

"Mind hanging around for a minute?"

Ashley's mind groaned. "Uh, sure thing."

Buchanan waited for people to leave. Once the last person has left the garage, she got to talking.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"About what?" Ashley asked all innocent.

"Drop the act. I've had more than my fair share of alcohol. I can spot a hangover a mile away. You, Heather, Emma, and Valarie all drank, didn't you?"

Ashley squirmed a little. "We...shared a bottle...yeah."

"A bottle. What kind?"

"...Rum."

"Good choice."

"Wha-?"

"Listen. I would be hypocritical to chastise you too much. I drank when I was underage too. I could say to you to not do it again, but you'll do it anyway and just hide it better. All I will say is this; not every day. Not ever before matches. Know your limit and drink half of that. And always have a meal with your drinks."

"I only did it to celebrate the finals."

"That I can understand. Go on now. This is another secret between us. We're racking them up."

Ashley turned to leave but had one more thing to say.

"Why didn't you say this to me yesterday when we were hungover?"

Buchanan shot her a smirk. "Because I wanted to make you think you got away with it."

* * *

Catalina's campus was a modern marvel. The buildings sported large windows, tinted blue, like the ocean waters the ship sailed upon. Valarie walked the campus with Madison with a face of amazement. The campus was been wonderfully constructed to show to the world that it was without a doubt a prestigious art school. In the middle of a courtyard, Valarie took in her surroundings. Multistory buildings that would have been filled with students had it not been summer vacation. The campus at this time around was silent. It was only them walking about. The scene was the purest definition of serenity.

"That's the building where general education classes are conducted," Madison said pointing to one of the larger buildings. "That is where you and your team will mostly spend your time here once classes resume. And then, all the other buildings you see, are for people to do art."

"What kind of art?"

"Oh, art can be so broad. We have the obvious stuff like painting and theater. But we got so much more to offer. Sculpting, cooking, music, photography, ceramics, dancing, filmmaking, et cetera, et cetera. If it has anything to do with creativity, you'll find it here."

"So, is this place like a high school or a college?"

"We do both, actually. The campus we are in is the high school. We got another one just on the other side of the ship that's the college. Catalina School of the Arts refer to both campuses, but each of them has their own names. Where we are is Catalina Art Academy. The other one is Catalina University of the Arts."

"This is all a little confusing."

"Likewise. Everyone just calls it Catalina. It's easier that way."

"This a coed school?"

"Heh, in theory."

"What do you mean?"

"Boys are more than welcome to attend, yet our demographics heavily leans to the fairer sex. Always has been. In recent years, fewer and fewer boys have been attending. Hell, fewer boys are sending applications at all. The administration cites the push toward STEM as the reason why."

"You don't like STEM? I feel you. Chemistry sucks."

"I don't really care one way or the other. The world needs engineers and all, but not at the expense of artists. I just feel like this push to STEM is overzealous."

Valarie nodded. "Mmm. So, what art do you do specifically."

"Ah! The theater!" Madison said with grand enthusiasm. "To be on the stage brings me so much joy. The other week I had a play. Julius Caesar, by Shakespeare. I played the part of Marc Antony. It was all such fun!"

"Oh, you act? That's so cool! Isn't it nerve-racking, though, to be up there in front of so many people?"

"It was at first, believe me. I was petrified over performing. But once you're on stage and play your part, you get this addiction. Once its over, you want to go back right away."

They walked around the outside for a bit more, with Madison showing Valarie all the sights to know about. Soon, they entered a building. The gymnasium as Madison explained. It was dead quiet inside. No one was using it. Within were exercise equipment of various calibers. Treadmills, stationary bikes, rowing machines, stair steppers, dumbbells, leg press machines, and so much more. Madison pointed a room and where people do yoga and another where it houses a pool for people to swim.

"You went all out for this gym of yours." Valarie noted.

"Of course. Exercise, in a way, is an art of its own as you are sculpting your body to your preference," Madison explained. They walked a bit more and stopped before one of the rooms in the gym. "This, without a shadow of a doubt, is the most popular spot on campus. The sauna."

"Ooh, a sauna?" Valarie said with delight. "That sounds absolutely heavenly."

"It is. So. Divine. You are guaranteed to leave that room relaxed. Now, I've got real special to show to you. Follow me, please."

Madison led Valarie upstairs of the gym to a large room. Within was exercise mats scattered about with lockers mounted on one of the walls. At these lockers, Madison turned to Valarie.

"Turn away from the lockers. Don't look until I say, okay?"

Intrigued, Valarie did so. She heard the sound of a locker being opened and something being put on. Then she heard something metallic being waved around which only increased her curiosity. After some minutes, the sounds ceased.

"Turn around."

Complying, Valarie saw something she did not expect to see. Madison, out of her school uniform, has now been kitted out fully in a different kind of uniform. Completely white, composing of padded jacket and pants. On her head was a mask that mostly obscured her face, only just being able to see her eyes. In her hand was a saber that was elegantly crafted.

"This sport...I know it. It's on the tip of my tongue." Valarie said, thinking hard.

"Fencing," Madison explained. "As you have your matches, so do I."

"Fencing," Valarie echoed. "Now that's a fancy sport."

Madison presented the handle of her saber to her. "I know you want to hold this thing."

Valarie looked at the piece of equipment were starry eyes. "Yes," she says, grabbing the saber. "Yes, I do."

With the saber in hand, Madison backed away as Valarie got familiar with the thing. It felt as light as a feather and found it to be very intuitive. She particularly liked the sound of it swishing in the air as she swung the saber about. Careful not to get hit, Madison approached her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Let's have a little lesson, shall we? We'll start with the easy stuff. Stances. We begin with the salute. Have your free hand by your side and with the other, raise your saber up by your head and then lower it to the floor."

"Alright, sounds simple enough."

Valarie assumed the stance and rose her saber up by her head, and lowered it down gracefully, with the tip pointed toward the floor. Madison grinned at this.

"Look at you. A pro already."

This got a blush out of Valarie.

"Next," Madison went on. "Step forward with your right foot to lung forward. Your left leg ought to be stretched out. As you lunge, you will then thrust your saber as far as you can. Begin."

Valarie took a breath and did the stance as it was explained to her. She wobbled slightly and giggled a tad bit, but did not fall. She looked at Madison she gave her a nod of approval.

"This is all good stuff," she remarked. "We're only doing stances but you're doing them very well."

"Would it be too much to ask for a practice round? Against you?" Valarie asked.

Madison smirked at her. "Are you sure? Like, really sure?"

"I am. I wanna see how I do."

"Okay. If that's what you want," Madison said slowly. She turned to a locker and opened it, revealing a fencing uniform. "Suit up and get ready to dance."

Valarie eagerly put on the uniform and was given a saber identical to the one Madison used. The two girls then moved to a mat and stood on either end, just a few feet apart. Madison saluted, with Valarie quickly doing the same. They looked at each other in silence when then, Madison suddenly spoke.

"En garde!"

She moved like lightning. Madison closed the distance and made a rapid lunge toward Valarie, jabbing her with her saber at the center of her protected chest.

"You lose."

Valarie couldn't process what just happened. "...What? That...that was too fast! The round lasted like five seconds!"

"Again?"

"Again!"

The reassumed the starting stances and started another bout. This one lasting shorter with Madison scoring a hit on Valarie's leg.

"One more!" Valarie declared.

Again, they started another bout, and yet again, Valarie lost in mere seconds. Each successive loss fueled her frustration. On the tenth bout was when she finally had some success. She managed to parry an attack from Madison, only to get hit a moment later on the shoulder. More bouts were done, and at first, Madison was having a ball. But soon, she grew concerned. The fun was beginning to evaporate.

"Valarie, you've lost thirty times in a row. And you only successfully parried five times. This is so one-sided!"

"I'm not stopping until I win _one_ round. Just one."

Valarie had reached a point where her stubbornness will not go away. It has gripped her totally.

"O...okay" Madison said.

Once more they got into the starting position. By now, they have stopped saluting and just went at it. Valarie charged toward Madison and unleashed a relentless attack. She parried each with supreme skill but the attacks kept coming. She couldn't make an attack of her own and Valarie was growing irritated that she couldn't score a hit. Her anger soon boiled over. She grabbed her saber with both of her hands and swung it like a bat, knocking Madison's saber out of her hand and sent it flying across the room. The shock sent Madison tumbling to the floor with Valarie approaching menacingly with her saber pointed right at her. She then sunk it right into her protected chest, worryingly, where the heart was.

"I win. Finally." Valarie uttered coldly

Madison didn't respond. Just looked at her with stunned eyes. Valarie took some breaths and composed herself. Her rage then dissipated and realized what she had just done. She dropped her saber.

"Madison...I'm...I'm sorry. I got carried away and I shouldn't have."

Madison rose from the floor and calmly went to retrieve her saber. She examined it quietly to see if any damage was sustained and stored it away in her locker. She then faced Valarie.

"I've been disarmed before..." she began but took a pause. She was still formulating her sentences. "But never have I felt scared when it happened to me."

"I'm so sorry," Valarie repeated. "I just got so...frustrated."

"I'm glad this has happened, actually, as I learn more about who you are," She approached Valarie and wrapped her arms around her. "The determination, that rage. I now fully understand how you led your team to victory in the nationals."

"I get the determination part, but rage? Not at all."

"Oh? Am I to assume that your actions in your Arizona match involved no rage whatsoever?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. In that valley, with your team flanked on both hills. You herded the enemy team where they were all bunched up. Then, when they got to that depot, blew the gasoline stored within to decimate them. That was a calculated act. You could have easily picked them off one by one below in the valley, but you wanted them to feel the hurt of the massive explosion from the ignited gas. Tankery is not war, but a sport. So, that action tells me you had anger in your system. My, if I didn't know any better, that team was a punching bag. But a punching bag for what?"

Valarie closed her eyes and sighed. She sat on the mat.

"Do you want to know? Do you?"

Madison joined her on the floor, sitting in front of her.

"I do. I want to understand _why_."

Valarie took off her mask and let it drop to the floor. The sun by now has begun to set, shadows started to engulf the room.

"The time leading up to the Arizona match was hell for my family. My dad lost his job and my mom was the only person getting money in. But it wasn't enough. The power soon went out, then the water. Then we lost the house. We missed one payment. One fucking payment! And we got foreclosed on and evicted. It happened so fast, it hit my family like a wall. We lived in our car for a while. My mom worked more shifts at her job and was gone for most of the day. My dad took in odd jobs while trying to find another trucking job. All the while, I still went to school and pretended like nothing was wrong."

"Wh...why? Why not tell people."

"Because I didn't want anyone to worry. It hurt, like being stabbed, to see my parents work for hours on end while I wasn't allowed to do a damn thing to help. They didn't want to me look for a job to help out because they wanted me to focus on school and on the team."

"A good call. If you had to find a job, you'd had to quit the team. The team probably wouldn't have won the nationals and we wouldn't have met."

Valarie took a deep breath. Some sniffles were heard.

"It was. But I still feel guilty for not being able to help, even just a little. So, when I was hashing out the strategy for the Arizona match, I became bitter. I wanted an outlet for my anger and the match was it. The depot ambush was a product of my frustrations. I regret it now. I took it too far. They didn't deserve it. It wasn't fair to them."

Valarie rested her head against her hand and was silent for several moments. Madison looked at her and could tell that her mind was heavy with thought as tears rolled down her cheeks. She moved in to embrace her and kissed the top of her head, comforting her.

"Well, now, everything is okay, yeah?" Madison asked.

"Yeah, it's all fine. For now, anyway."

"And, since you acknowledge the fact that what you've done in your Arizona match was too far, you'll be extra vigilant to not do something like that in the world tournament."

As Valarie felt the warmth of her sister's embrace, she was staring off to the distance, her mind filled with doubt. She didn't know if she can actually do that. To actually restrain herself. She failed to do that when they were fencing. When spirits run high in the heat of battle, with shells whistling past and exploding far and near you, Valarie genuinely didn't know if she can actually stop herself from going too far. To her, it wasn't a matter of if, but when. When that day will come, she had no clue. And that fact terrified her.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is in the air yet again.

Saturday, June 29th 2013

_At Sea_

The sun had just barely crested over the horizon and already was Valarie and Emma awake and were getting dressed in their uniforms. This was the type of situation that Valarie would otherwise be intensely embarrassing and awkward for her. She would recall back in her freshman year when it was required for her, and other freshmen, to have PE. Going outside and doing exercises and other activities was the fun part. That she did enjoy doing and really, PE was the highlight of her freshman year. The part that she _didn't_ particularly enjoy was the locker room part. There, she and the other students would have to dress into their gym clothes. In a rather enclosed spaced with people on either side mere inches apart, it was uncomfortable for her. Even though the locker rooms are separated, with boys and girls having their own areas, did little to put her at ease, always dressing rapidly to spend as little time as possible. Yet, at this moment, she didn't feel that way. Being in the privacy of your apartment and being with someone that you've known for a decade made her comfortable enough, to an extent that she peeked at Emma as she dressed. She did a poor job being discreet, though Emma wasn't at all upset. Because, well, she was doing the same thing.

"You, ah, got an eyeful?" Emma then said

Startled, Valarie quickly averted her gaze. "No,no...um...no." she stuttered out.

"Ha. Whatever you say," Emma remarked, grinning. Once she was done she walked to the kitchen. "I'll take care of breakfast."

"That's kind of you."

Valarie sat at the kitchen table as Emma got to work. The sound and aroma of cooking eggs filled the room.

"So," Emma then spoke as she cooked. "Practice at sea? How's that going to work?"

"Well, Madison has said that a section of the ship has been cordoned off for us to do our practices. Where exactly, I don't know."

"Hmm. Practice is going to be interesting I bet today."

The two shared breakfast and once that part of their morning was taken care of, they left their apartment and went toward the garage. They were by joined by Heather, Ashley, and soon, the rest of the team as they all went. Arriving at the garage, they found Buchanan waiting patiently.

"Good morning everyone," she greeted warmly. "As you all know, we're going to have practice today. Though, since we are on a ship, things will of course be different. Madison will explain."

A moment later, Madison arrived in the garage, pulling a wagon behind her. On this wagon, was a superbly accurate scale model of school ship they were on. Even a scale model of the _Rembrandt_ was obscene. It was several feet long.

"That's one hell of a toy." Ashley remarked.

"Nice isn't it?" Madison said. "Wonderfully crafted by the carpentry club. Now, for where you'll do your practice," she continued, gesturing everyone closer. The Mojave Rose team surrounded the model and paid close attention. "This stretch of so-called 'wilderness' is two miles long and one mile wide. Located toward the rear, this area is called "Inspiration Park", Madison explained, pointing toward a section of the ship that was covered with green. "It's called "Inspiration" because once you go there, you get inspired by all the scenery to create something. On Saturdays, for your practices, you will have exclusivity. The park is based on Yellowstone so the environment is varied and there are also bridges...oh right bridges! Ah, they they were built to support the trucks that made the park in the first place, but, I'm not terribly sure if they can support your tanks"

"We won't mess with them." Valarie said.

"Alrighty. Now, there's one more thing," Madison added. She retreated out of view for a moment and then returned with another wagon. This one filled with a multitude of boxes. "Some equipment for you guys." Excited murmurs erupted among the team. Madison grabbed one of the boxes and opened it, revealing a top-of-the-line tablet. It was then handed to Valarie, who looked at it amazed. It was the nicest piece of electronics she has ever got her hands on.

"Woah! I didn't expect you'd get us these kinds of tablets." Valarie noted.

"Mmmhmm! Only the best of the best for of all you. It sports Wi-Fi and cellular capabilities, 128 gigabytes of flash memory, a 1.2-megapixel front camera capable of 720p HD video...I'd go on but I'm no Steve Jobs."

"How much is this thing?"

"For that model? Nine hundred and twenty-nine dollars for each tablet."

"So...you have there in your wagon almost thirteen thousand dollars with of tablets?"

"Twelve thousand and seventy-seven dollars to be exact. And that, of course, is not taking into account the GPS devices, each costing one hundred and twenty dollars and I got twenty of them in the event you get more tanks."

"Trackers are that expensive?"

"They are if you want super-accurate data up to one meter."

"Geez..." Valarie uttered. The price of everything bewildered her. "So, what about the camo nets?"

"Here's the thing about those nets. You see, the tablets and trackers I got from shops here on the ship. As it turns out, there is no shop here that sells tankery equipment. Or military equipment in general. Hence, I don't have your nets. As such, I've placed an order for them."

"Cool, when can we expect them?"

"When we make port in Ireland, which is the upcoming Wednesday. I've arranged it for the nets to be ready for us."

"Thank you kindly for the new equipment. No doubt we'll use them extensively," Buchanan thanked. "Alright, everyone! Mount up! There's an access road we can use that'll take us right to the practice area. I'll catch up."

The team eagerly got into their vehicles. The garage was soon filled with the roars of numerous vehicles, the air being thick with the gas fumes. One by one, they departed the garage and drove toward the designated area. Buchanan lingered around for a moment. She wasn't alone in the garage. Waiting around for a moment, Redwood come down from the upper floor. It was just them.

"So," he began. "Anything noticeable?"

"I gotta say, lately I've got this metallic taste in my mouth like I'm chewing on pennies." Buchanan shared.

"That's a bit concerning."

"Oh not at all! I've looked that up and that's just the result of the hormones! Thinking about it, I've figured that I'm now three weeks pregnant. On the same site that told me about the hormones, it told me something else. Our child, which is right now just a bundle of cells, it's around the size of a pinhead."

Redwood hugged her from behind, affectionately wrapping his arms around her stomach. "Oh, I just can't wait for our first ultrasound. It's going to be an emotional experience for both of us. Would it be too early to speculate on your due date?"

"Um," Buchanan uttered. She entered into a phase of intense thinking. "Mmm, nine months from June roughly. So...March next year."

"God, I can't wait."

They shared a kiss.

"Now," Buchanan then said. "I got a practice to oversee. What will you be doing today?"

"Uh, not much honestly. With summer vacation in full swing, my workload has plummeted."

"Oh, how will you occupy your time without me?" Buchanan said in a tease.

Redwood chuckled. "Ah, I'll manage. Maybe I'll catch on on some shows I've been meaning to watch."

"Well, enjoy yourself," Buchanan said as she got into the DPV. "You know, I'm glad we got this thing," she said, playfully tapping the steering wheel. She then turned toward the Humvee and looked at it for a second. "Dunno what we'll do with that though. We'll find a purpose for it. Maybe."

* * *

"Alright, so you just stick it here...and...that's it. It's installed." Valarie remarked.

She was within the fighting compartment of the T-44, just finished with placing the GPS tracker firmly against the inner steel wall. It flashed a green light and made a little beep. Now, new tablet in hand, Valarie opened an app that displayed a map of the area. On it was a blue blip.

"That's us," she said, showing it to her crew. A second later, more blips appeared on the map, thirteen in all. "And that's the rest of the team. Very cool! We know where we are at all times. Plus, this map is incredibly detailed. I can zoom in and see things far better than a paper map. I wonder what else I can do with this app..."

She played around with it more. By just tapping on a section of the map, a marker appeared which was displayed on all of the team's devices. Valarie hummed with satisfaction.

"Oh, I _like_ this."

"Taking tank combat from the twentieth century to the twenty-first. We're a force to be reckoned with!" Ashley boasted.

"No doubt, but let's not get too overconfident. Practice will still be as vigorous as ever," the sound of the DPV was heard, growing louder by the moment. "Alright everyone," she said over the radio. "Let's get to it!"

* * *

Alice has been looking for Madison all day. Any texts and calls sent to have not been returned. She first went to her dorm and saw that it was empty. Everything was all neat and proper. Returning back outside, she stood thinking. Where, oh where could her best friend be? It then hit her.

"...Student council room."

She went off toward campus. Arriving, she headed into the building and ascended to the top floor. She found the door for the student council room to be unlocked. Going inside, she saw Madison slumped over a computer desk. Walking over, she laid a hand on her and gently shook her.

"Madi," she whispered gently. "Wake up."

Madison awoke all groggily. She stood up in her chair and rubbed her eyes. "What...what time is it?"

"It's about to be noon. Why are you here?"

"Taking care of some work."

"What kind of work?"

"Oh, just guess."

"The tankery team? Interesting. What else do they need now?"

"More tanks. Always more tanks. Valarie had explained to me that in the time leading up to the national finals, her team was looking for more tanks but couldn't find any. So, I'm looking for tanks for sales from all sorts of places."

"Any luck?"

"Well," Madison said with a disappointed sigh. "There are a lot fewer results that I would've liked."

"Oh? What about that offering?" Alice said, pointing to the screen. "A school in Costa Rica is selling a," she paused to read it fully. "Het…zer. Hmm. Hetzer. I like that name."

"Yeah, the thing is though, this ship isn't stopping until it reaches port in Ireland. No unscheduled stops, sadly."

"Hmm. Well, in that case, change your search filters for schools in the United Kingdom. See if any of them are selling anything."

"Hey, good call!"

Adjusting the filters, the girls were presented with a new slew of sale offers. Madison pointed to one with glee.

"Alright! An Irish school is selling a tank. Aces! We're already heading in the right direction!"

"The school's name?"

"Saint Apollonia College. Near Dublin. Hmm, that's the city where we're gonna be in port. Neat"

Alice looked at Madison befuddled as she continued to look at the listing.

"Madi, don't...don't you know?"

"Know what?"

"That's the school that's going to teach the tankery team how international matches are done."

Madison's eyes widened as she slapped her forehead.

"I'm...I'm really tired, okay? I'm not thinking clearly," she admitted as she rubbed her face. "God...how could I forget that? I arranged it in the first place!"

"Why are you so tired? Did you marathon another TV show again?"

"Ah, no. I just couldn't sleep. There's something on my mind."

"Well, now you have to tell me."

Madison let out a small sigh. "This doesn't leave this room, okay? It's a highly sensitive matter."

Alice sat down next to her and mimicked her lips being sealed. "Of course."

"Yesterday, I took Valarie a tour around campus. I finished the tour showing her my fencing stuff. She was captivated and wanted to try a practice round with me. Suffice to say, it ended quite dramatically. But that wasn't all. After our little spar, she admitted something to me that is still fresh in my mind. She told me that earlier in the year...her family had a bout of homelessness."

"I see," Alice said solemnly. "That's...that's awful. How did that make you feel?"

"A gut punch. No, more like getting shot. A person in my family going through such a horrible thing? God! I wish...I wish we knew each other months earlier. I could've helped! Give her family money so that they can get by...no, not get by...thrive!"

"Madi, you had no idea then. Don't blame yourself for something like that."

Madison rested her head on her hands and remained quiet for several moments. Her audible breathing mixed in with the odd sniffle.

"I held it in, but later that night, I couldn't stop myself from crying," Madison went on. "That's why I couldn't sleep. Too busy crying."

"And now, that brings you here. Searching for a tank for them. Which, I will rightly guess, you'll pay for."

Madison nodded. Alice leaned in and hugged her, showering her with warmth and comfort that soothed her soul.

"Madison, you have a heart of gold," she said with grace. "Heh, keep this up, and you'll be fully funding that team." she joked.

"If I have too, I will."

Alice chuckled as she shook her head. "Ah, I don't think they're _that_ strapped for cash. You're selfless to a fault. Any who, what kind of tank is Saint Apollonia selling? Is it powerful or something like that?"

"Ah, let's see," Madison said, looking back at the computer screen. "They are selling an AMR 35."

"...What's that?"

"Don't know. There isn't a picture. I guess they assume people will just know what it is."

She typed on the computer the name of the tank and a picture of it was then found. They both tilted their heads to the side upon laying eyes on it. It wasn't what they were expected.

"You know, Madi, I don't think they are that desperate."

"Eh? What's wrong with it? It's cute!"

"...Yeah, you're right. Nonetheless, Valarie is the one who makes the call."

"Indeed. I'll pass along the information in due time."

_Later_

The Mojave Rose tankey team's first practice at sea has gone wonderfully. Inspiration Park has proved itself to be an excellent range for them to drive around and pop off some rounds. And what more, because the area was thick with trees and other vegetation, they absorbed most of the sound of their guns. Sure, no matter where you are on the ship, you will hear the cannons going off, but thanks to those trees, it's by no means a nuisance. In fact, the people living on the ship actually found this thrilling. For some, it was the thunder of the guns that announced to them that there was a tankery team on board. Mojave Rose has instantly become a local favorite. With practice at its end, the vehicles returned to the garage and the team was together as Buchanan debriefed them.

"That went very smoothly. Glad to see we're all already in the grove in our new setting. Ah, I've got nothing else to say, so, get out of here."

The team left the garage and went in all directions as they all plans. Ashley caught up with Heather, hands behind her back, and looked at her all cute.

"So," she began. "You and I have an...arrangement, so to speak."

Heather glanced at her then looked away. "Yes, we do. What's the plan?"

"Something simple. You and I are going to walk the town and see what we see. Do what strikes us."

"I can get behind that. Though, first, I'm going to shower."

Sniffing her own uniform, Ashley showed a nod. "Yeah, same here. Meet back outside by the front entrance."

The two girls hurriedly returned to their respective apartment units, showered, Fifteen minutes have elapsed when Ashley then went back outside, ready. Her outfit was not at all unusual. Her usual white tank top with black denim jeans. She ran her fingers through her short hair repeatedly as an anxiousness has taken root in her. Her breathing slowly quickened as the minutes gone by. Before her emotions had a chance to overwhelm her, she heard a door open behind her. Turning around, her eyes laid upon Heather. She was wearing a green-and-white sundress that ran past her knees. Across the middle of her dress, were buttons, and functional ones at that. Turning her gaze downward, Ashley noticed that she was also wearing tan ankle-strap sandals.

"Well, um, someone put way more effort in their appearance." Ashley remarked with a chuckle.

"You like it? Check this out," Heather said. She then stuffed her hands done some slips in her dress. "Pockets! Of my own creation!"

"You know, if more dresses had pockets, I'd start wearing them."

"Oh, you looked beyond amazing in that hybrid tux during prom. It suited you perfectly. And don't be too hard on yourself. You always look great in that tank-top of yours. Don't mess with success."

Grinning, and blushing faintly, Ashley motioned to Heather to follow and the pair started walking and continued talking.

"You still making costumes and such?" Ashley asked her.

"Partially. Obviously, I couldn't bring my sewing machine so that I can do is rather limited. Still, I can do a lot with needles. I can still, at least, create something."

"You know," Ashley then said, face thinking. "Since this is an art school and all, they could have classes dedicated to fashion." This caused Heather to perk up. "And, if they do have fashion courses, then for sure do they have sewing machines and so much more to take your work to the next level."

"You're so right!" Heather exclaimed with joy, an emotion rarely seen from her. "I gotta check into that. Now, I bet you have some excitement about this school too."

"Hmm?" Ashley remarked with some confusion. "No, as I said, this place is an art school so I doubt there's anything that has to do with computers and all."

"I wasn't talking about computers."

Ashley remained confused but only for a second. She soon learned what Heather really meant.

"Oh. Music. I dunno..." she said with some reservation.

"Why? You have a heavenly voice and when you played that guitar, it was like an extension of your body. Also, I've yet to see you play the piano. And I know you have experience with it."

Ashley looked at her and smirked slightly.

"Damn, you really want to see me perform again that bad, eh?"

"I do. I love it."

"Well, maybe. I might take a look at this school's music department and get a feel for it. See if it's any good."

"I'll hold you to that."

"I'm sure you will."

Their walking has got them into town. They strolled by various buildings and some shops. The girls took their time as they viewed these shops, deciding which one they'll visit first. None drew their curiosity, so they kept walking. Then, they spotted a double-story cafe. Going up to the window, they saw that it covered with what the cafe offered.

"Bubble tea? I like the sound of that, how about you?" Ashley proposed.

"No complaints from me. I'm game."

They entered the cafe and ordered their drinks. With teas in hand, they walked upstairs and found themselves in a tranquil scene. The chairs here hung from the ceiling, with some hammocks attached to pillars. Then there were the large windows that gave a fantastic view of the sea. It was the mid-afternoon so the sun was only now starting its journey to sink beneath the horizon. As it was still bright, the ocean waters shimmered brilliantly. They found a pair of hanging chairs and sat down right next to each other. What made everything perfect was that they were alone.

"That's downright majestic," Heather commented, admiring the scene. She then took a sip of her bubble tea. "Mmm, this tastes pretty darn good."

"Oh yeah, this is now my new favorite drink."

They sat together quietly for some moments, drinking their teas. Heather's eyes squinted as an interesting question has manifested in her mind.

"I've, ah, got a weird question to ask. It's a bit...out there."

"Knowing you, no question is weird."

"Okay. Do you think we have free will or are our lives predestined?"

Ashley looked at her blankly. "...Alright. That's weird. Could you explain?"

"Do you think what is happening in your life was always meant to happen? That you only had the illusion of free choice, when in actuality, you're just unknowingly following a script?"

"Mmm, no. If true, it would mean that people who die young were meant to die. And that's a depressing thought."

"I feel the same way, but it's an idea that you can't really disprove."

"Oh yeah? Listen, I sincerely doubt there is some all-knowing invisible power that dictates every word I say and action I do. You and I are free-spirits, and that's the honest truth."

Heather laughed softly. "Amen to that. Now, on to something else. Do you think we're alone in the universe?"

"Hell no, there are aliens out. Maybe a few interstellar empires. Man, a huge space war could be going on ~right now~ and we'd never know because it's so far away."

"I've had that same EXACT thought," Heather said with glee. "Just thinking about such a massive event like that happening gives my goosebumps and I love it. Moving on, I'm actually very curious about this, what's your take on ghosts?"

"Ghosts?" Ashley echoed. "I've got a personal story about the paranormal."

Heather learned toward her, eyes hyperfocused. "Tell. Me. Now."

"A couple of years ago, I was at home in my room. I was doing homework, believe or not. While working, I heard my mom call me. I left my room and went to her. I asked her 'what's up' but she told me she didn't call me. I was confused a little, but I chalked that up to mishearing something and went back to my room. I resumed working when after a few minutes, my mom came into my room and asked me what I wanted. I looked at her weird and told her I didn't call or say anything. It was her now that was confused and left. But the truly perplexing, and somewhat scary part happened around an hour later. We both then heard a voice that sounded like dad and walked toward where it came from. Which was my parent's room. It freaked us out, especially considering what happened leading up to that."

Heather was utterly captivated. "God. Damn. Disembodied voices that sound like people you know. Just add in orbs and you'd have your textbook paranormal case. Has it ever happened again?"

"No, that was the only time it has happened."

"Hmm. Say. An idea just hit me. Want to one day play around with an ouija board?"

Ashley shook her head. "I'll be honest, I'm on the fence on ghosts. But, I'd like to be on the safe side and not mess with that at all."

Heather pouted. "Aw...okay," she drank and fished her tea and threw it away. "It's...not every day that I can talk to people about this sort of stuff without fear of ridicule. It's with you, Valarie, and Emma do I feel comfortable enough to share my, admittedly, bizarre interests."

"Heather, I wouldn't dare make fun of you. Sure, your interests are weird but in every good way. I adore when you go on and on about what you're passionate about. It's just one of the many things I...like about you."

Their hands moved closer to each other, to an extent where the tip of their fingers was touching each other. This sensation excited them, causing their heart rate to elevate and some sweat to appear.

"Like?" Heather asked all shyly, her voice just above a whisper. "You like me or...do you have a stronger emotion?"

Ashley nervously cleared her throat and then stood up, throwing away her drink. "Ah..." she muttered. A huge breath was taken. "Heather...the day I first laid eyes on you when the team went to that junkyard looking for tanks, you've taken my breath away. Since that day, you've never left my mind. I always think, 'how lucky am I to spend so much time with such a beautiful, fascinating, talented, and above all, strong girl'."

With Heather still in her seat, Ashley then knelt down in front of her and placed her hands on her lap. She was surprised by this move but made no attempt to stop it.

"Heather," Ashley said. Her voice was as soft as silk that made Heather swoon. "I'm in love with you. Will you be my girlfriend?"

Ashley looked on with anxious anticipation. Heather slowly rose from the chair and grabbed both of Ashley's hands and pulled her up. In a move that utterly surprised and delighted Ashley, Heather leaned forward and kissed her. An explosion of bliss was felt by them both. From that day on, their souls were mended and became one. Their kiss lasted for several long, tender moments that they savored. They left the cafe and, arms linked, back to the apartment complex. Their happiness soaring into the heavens.


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the land of Ireland, the Mojave Rose team becomes aquainted with international tankery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like any good author, I've done a retcon. Earlier in the story, it was originally said that the world tournament was to begin in August. I changed it to July. Just saying this to deter people from saying I've made an error. Anyway, enjoy

_Monday, July 1st 2013_

_At Sea_

Emma was sound asleep. Resting on a bed as soft as the puffiest cloud in the sky. It was nice and cool, made better as Valarie was just right next to her. Though, in contrast, Valarie was wide awake. Her laptop was on her lap, reading some news. As it was the early morning, her computer screen emanated this glow, that eventually roused Emma from her sleep.

"Morning," Emma said, a bit groggy. She looked at the computer. "So, what's new in the world?"

"It's kicked off." Valarie replied.

"Huh?" Emma asked. She was confused by this rather cryptic statement.

"The world tournament has started."

"But isn't our match not till near the end of the month?"

"Yes, for us. But there are other countries at play. Today, France and Romania are going to face off."

"Oh wow," Emma remarked. "Hmm, didn't Molly Pitcher's captain told us that countries like France tend to win the internationals?"

"Yeah..." Valarie said hesitantly. "Well, let's not think about that too much. It doesn't help. Now, today we're having a commander's meeting. Further details about our first match."

"Oh, give me a sneak preview, pretty please?" Emma asked all cute like. Valarie couldn't resist.

"Oh, alright. Since you asked so adorably. We're fighting Italy."

"Fight them where?"

"Oh, sorry. That's all you're getting for now." Valarie said with a smirk.

Emma playfully pouted and rose from the bed. "Fine. Guess I'll just get ready in the meantime."

She was soon joined by Valarie and the two girls got dressed in their uniforms, had a quick breakfast, and left for the garage. The rest of the team soon arrived piecemeal and by nine in the morning, all were at attendance. Most of them set to their routine tasks as the commanders of the team went upstairs. The garage they were in had an upper story where some rooms were for all sorts of purposes. One was where Redwood and Buchanan use to take care of the administrative and logistics of the team. And another was one that Valarie was especially fond of. A conference room. Within was a large wood oval table surrounded by office chairs. At the far end wall, opposite the door, was a large screen for a projector mounted on the table. Windows let in nice natural light and the air conditioning was sublime. All the commanders got into their seats. Valarie had brought her laptop and plugged it into the projector. As it warmed it, she started speaking.

"Wednesday, July 24th, is when our match against Italy is. Our first match of the internationals," The projector warmed up and displayed a map. "The location, Spain." The screen showed the map of the battlefield. In the middle was a large swath of green vegetation, something like a forest. But from its appearance, it was either only the remnant of once a great sea of trees or was artificially created. Surrounding this greenery was arid-looking land sectioned in geometric shapes. It was clear that it was farmland of a sort, though abandoned and uncultivated. "The name of the Italian school, which I translated to English because I will surely butcher the pronunciation, is Palatine Academy for Girls. Yet, before we can think too much about this match, we need to have a firm understanding of how international tankery is performed. For that, we're going to Ireland where a school there will make us learn the ropes. We'll spend some time with them, learning, and maybe doing other fun stuff. Afterward, we depart for Spain."

She let the commanders in the room have time to exchange eager glances and chatter about the news. The greatest perk about being in an international competition is the opportunity to travel to the world. Already were they to visit Ireland and Spain. Who knows where else they could go. The options literally were endless. Once the talk died down, Valarie continued.

"I would just to finish with this. The world tournament will go from July to March next year. Nine months. Who knows where we'll end up. You're all dismissed. Return to your vehicles."

With the commander's meeting concluded, they went back downstairs and rejoined with their respective vehicles. Over at the Jagdpanzer IV, Natalie was sat on top of her vehicle, a book in her hand. Behind her, she could hear someone climb on her tank and then felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Oh, reading are we? I'm touched that I've inspired you." Ray teased.

"Heh, funny."

"So, whatcha reading?"

"Not a novel or anything," she said. Natalie showed him the cover, which read 'German for Advanced Speakers'. "With going around the world, and all, I've decided to brush up on my German. Never knew when an opportunity can come up where I can get to speak it."

"Oh yeah?" he said with a grin. "Romance me in German."

"German is the total opposite of a romance language."

"With your voice, you can make it work."

Natalie looked away briefly to hide a blush. "Alright, alright," she cleared her throat and reached out and held his hand. "Sich in dich zu verlieben war völlig unerwartet. Und ich bin so gesegnet, dass es passiert ist. Es gibt keinen besseren Ort auf der Welt, als in deinen Armen zu sein."

Ray squeezed her hand. "I can feel the romance in those words. Though, just to know, what exactly did you say?"

"Falling in love with you was totally unexpected. And I am so blessed that it happened. There is no better place in the world than to be in your arms." Natalie said again in English.

Ray moved to be behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "So, is being in my arms really like no other place on Earth?"

Natalie delightfully hummed and got all comfortable in his embrace. "Yes, yes indeed."

The two enjoyed each other as the rest of the team performed their tasks, trying their absolute best not to stare too long. Ray and Natalie were beyond the point of caring if people see them be affectionate to each other. From her T-44, Valarie couldn't help but blush as the sight.

"Damn, still find it hard to believe that they're together and I was the first one to find out."

"Funny how things turn out, huh?" Emma remarked.

"You got that right. Now, how is the tank?"

"Armed and ready. She's ready for her next outing." Heather responded.

"Great! Just a few more weeks till our first match."

It was then that Madison arrived at the garage and headed straight toward them. The manner of her walk indicated to Valarie that she had some news to share.

"Hey Madison, what's up?" Valarie greeted.

"I've got something to share with you," she told her, motioning Valarie to come closer. "I've been in contact with that Irish school that is going to train you guys and I just received a request from them. They want you to bring the IS-3."

"The IS-3? Is that the only tank they want to be brought?"

"Just that one. Their exact request read, 'Please be so kind as to have Mojave Rose bring their IS-3. We are very curious in regards to that machine. In particular, about the crew that operates it'."

Valarie treated this request with some suspicions and her face showed it.

"Um, is there something wrong with that?" Madison questioned.

"Our IS-3 crew is an all-male crew. We've had some...drama during the nationals about that. At one point, Ray, the commander, got harassed because of his participation in tankery. I'm a bit worried about this request. I hope we left all that damn drama back in the nationals. I really don't want to deal with that again."

Madison then recalled a moment prior to the start of the national finals. Where she and Alice ran into Juliana. Just thinking of her made Madison twitch slightly with anger. Her mind then became a tumultuous sea as she went back and forth deciding whether or not to inform Valarie of their conversation. She elected not to do so. As to not further add stress on her and because she thought to herself that nothing would come of it. Hopefully.

"That's unfortunate to hear. But I really doubt there's anything malicious about their request. I bet they are just intrigued by the male crew."

"Mmm, possibly. Anyway, you said that our camo nets will be picked up in Ireland, yeah?"

"They are ready and waiting for you guys."

"Nice. I really _really_ appreciate all that you're doing."

"Don't even sweat it. We're family. It's the right thing to do."

They showed each other warm smiles. Then, Madison showed a face of brief hesitation. She got right next to Valarie so that their chat could be just between them.

"I've been meaning to ask," Madison said in a whisper. "Ah, there's this girl I'm curious about that's part of the crew of the...um...that thing," she said, pointing to the Jumbo in a discreet manner."

"Girl? Which...girl?"

"Um...the one with...ah...long brown hair."

"Oh? Harper?"

"That her name?" Madison asked. Internally, she couldn't get over how lovely her name was.

"Yep. She's the only person on the Jumbo crew with brown hair. What about her?"

"Well...I've noticed that she's pretty silent. I haven't heard her speak, whereas, I have damn near heard everyone else."

"The reason why is simple. She's deaf."

"Deaf?" Madison reacted with surprise. "A deaf person can actually participate in the sport?"

"Oh, I was surprised as you are when I first found out. She's the loader and her commander uses sign language to communicate what shells need to be loaded."

"Amazing. Genuinely amazing. I'll make sure that when classes for your team start, that she is wonderfully accommodated. Catalina has its fair share of deaf students, among others who have disabilities."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that. Now, are we still on schedule to arrive in Ireland on Wednesday?"

"Indeed we are! We'll arrive in the morning. If you'll excuse me, I have some matters to attend to."

Exchanging goodbyes, Madison departed the garage and made straight to her dorm. During her walk, she whipped out her phone and made an internet search.

_Learning sign language_

* * *

_Wednesday, July 3rd 2013_

The Mojave Rose team has finally arrived in Europe. In the early morning hours, the excitement of the day before them caused many of the team to wake early and prepare. Ray, in particular, was eager about the occasion. Once he was dressed, he went outside the apartment complex and could feel the early morning chill of the Atlantic sea. He had brought his binoculars with him and trained them on the approaching horizon. It was still rather dark, but not impossible to see. Still, he saw nothing at first. Just the ocean water seemingly going forever. Soon, to his delight, land began to appear from the faraway fog, which made his face light up with joy.

"There you are, land of the leprechauns."

The Irish coast was admired for several minutes. In time, more of it could be seen and more detail could be enjoyed. He put his binoculars away and with his unaided eye could see the coastline. He started to turn around to return to his apartment and had the scare of his life when he saw Heather standing a few feet behind him. Silent as a ghost.

"God! Heather!"

"Morning." she greeted in a calm tone.

"Geez, morning to you too," Ray replied. He placed a hand over his heart and felt it rapidly beating. "You, ah, wanted to see the Irish coast too?"

"Oh, yes. My family can trace their heritage to Ireland. Northern Ireland specifically. So, it's kind of special to me."

"That's cool. And I bet it's special for you for another reason. You know, the Loch Ness Monster and all."

"Huh?"

"Don't you like reading about things like that? Cryptids, ghosts, aliens, and so much more?"

"I do. But the monster lives a lake Scottish Highlands. Not Ireland."

"Oh," he said with some embarrassment. "Well, goes to show what I know about Britain."

"Leprechauns...however," she then said.

"I was JUST thinking about them earlier!"

They shared a smile and Ray then gave her his binoculars so that she could get a better look at Ireland. As she looked out, more people of the team were outside to catch a glance of the nearing land. The sun was now beginning to rise and illuminate their surroundings. Valarie, when she came out, looked with amazement. Not at Ireland, but at the team.

"I never saw you guys this early with so much energy. I wish it was like this when you show up for practice."

With the sun up and shining, the team went about preparing for landfall. By mid-morning, the ship had finally made port in Dublin. From their position, all on board the vessel could lay their eyes on the city, a mix of old medieval buildings standing next to those that wonderfully represented the modern era. A city where every block is no doubt enriched with history. Despite it being July, the weather was cool, even a bit cold at times whenever the wind would gust. This was by no means a place where it gets 'hot', never by Southern California standards anyway. The team had congregated by an area of the ship for disembarking, waiting for the ramp to deploy for them to descend onto the docks. Ray looked around and saw a crane at work, hoisting the IS-3 from the ship and down to the docks.

"What do they want with the IS-3, again?" Cesar asked him.

"I don't know," Ray responded. "I can only hope it's something good but prepare for anything."

"I hope they've got a really good truck to haul that thing to where we're going." Ryan remarked.

"Ah, I think you mean 'lorry'." Jeremy corrected.

"Whatever. It means the same thing!"

Scarcely a moment later, everyone heard machinery come alive and the ramp was then deployed. Taking that as their cue, they all went down it and for the first time in several days, again came in contact with land. They walked around the docks for a bit and soon found a bus. A girl who stood near it caught sight of them and sprinted toward them. Her hair was a wavy orange and dangled in the air as she ran. She was wearing her school uniform that wasn't too unusual. Top portion a white dress shirt and black tie, the bottom half a kilt colored appropriately, or perhaps stereotypically, green. Though kilts are more associated with Scotland, Ireland too has a culture with this type of clothing. One they are more than happy to show off. On her head was a black beret, a hat that was desperately hanging on to the head of its owner.

"Well, ain't it the yanks who won it all across the pond?" the girl greeted in an accent that wasn't as thick as the team expected. They were some worries that they wouldn't understand her. "Who among you is the captain?"

Valarie stepped forward. The Irish girl looked at her a grin and made exaggerating steps toward her.

"Miss Valarie Woodlin, right here before me."

"You...already know my name?"

"That I do. I've done my research on ya. I wanted to know who I would be dealing with. That showing you and your team did in Arizona is one I fancy a whole lot. You know, the big ol'explosion! Absolutely brutal, I love it!"

Grimacing slightly, Valarie wanted to remain polite. "...Thanks. So, um, who are you?"

"I'm Cara, captain of Saint Apollina's tankery team!" Cara answered with great enthusiasm. "And, today, your team's instructor on how international tankery matches are done. Boy, are there some substantial differences compared to how your nationals are done, like—!"

Cara stopped herself.

"Ah, wouldn't want to spoil things right now. We need to be in a proper place for this. Our training ground just beyond the city. Come along now! Board the bus and we'll take you lot there!"

The team made their way toward the bus. Valarie lingered back a little, to ensure that everyone did indeed head toward the bus. Redwood and Buchanan were the last to board when then she heard someone come running behind her.

"Valarie," Madison called to her. "Just wanted to see you before you go. You do remember what I told you about the tank?"

"I do. AMR 35. I'll take a good look at the thing and made a decision about it."

"If you do decide to acquire it, tell them to contact me and I'll handle everything. Oh, and I'll handle the acquisition of the nets.

"Thank you so much."

They shared a quick hug and Valarie ran off to board the bus. The doors closed behind her and the vehicle drove on. The team was taken an hour and a half away from the city to a more rural part of the country. Rolling green hills as far as the eye can see. The bus then got off the main road and onto one that was certainly not paved. A few more minutes of being jostled around, the bus then came to a stop. Cara stood at the front.

"Welcome to Saint Apollonia's training ground. This is where we have our fun. Come now, let's stretch our legs."

The doors were opened and everyone went outside. The weather was mild and crisp. The wind softly blew and clouds were scattered across the sky. The ground was moist as the day before some rain came through the area. The team followed Cara down a path that led to a large brick building. Going inside and they were greeted with Saint Apollonia's tanks. To no one's surprise, their roster mostly composed of British vehicles. Valentines, Comets, Cromwells, Crusaders, Churchills, and some Bishop self-propelled guns. Though their lineup wasn't exclusively British. Some Shermans of different variants were around, along with some from Canada, the Ram Cruiser Tank.

"Some collection you have here," Valarie complimented. "Though, I notice you don't have any tank destroyers."

"Nah, not our style. No one here likes to wait around for hours on end only to fire one shot. We like to be right in the thick of it."

"Hey, more power to you."

"Mmmhmm, now, let's get right to it!" Cara climbed on a Churchill and stood on top of its turret, commanding everyone's attention. "The first thing that makes international matches different than how you Americans do it is the pre-game activities. Chiefly, the sharing of cultures!"

"...Sharing? How so?" Valarie asked.

"It is customary that before matches that both schools in the spectator's area set up all kinds of tents that displays what their country is all about. Mainly, it's food. Nothing gives a person a better idea of what a country can offer to the world is their cuisine."

"Oh, I can get on board with this." Ray remarked.

"Ah...you," Cara said, jumping down the Churchill and marching right up to Ray and his crew. "We've been waiting to see you fellas. You did bring that tank of yours, yeah?"

"We did." he told her.

"Good. Later today, we're gonna see what you're made off. I'm dead curious about your performance."

"We won't disappoint."

"Mmm. That remains to be seen. I don't know much about ya, that I'll admit, but," she got closer to Ray, "A big guy like you, I know you can put down a meal."

"I hope your offering breakfast."

"That we are!" Cara suddenly said with huge energy, startling everyone. She led the team behind the garage where some booths have been set-up. Here, a group of girls stood ready. With the aroma of something good smelled in the air, the Mojave Rose team lined up to these booths and were served Irish stew. Made simply with mutton, onions, and potatoes. As everyone enjoyed this hearty meal, Valarie and Cara were together talking about a certain tank.

"So, I've come to understand that you have a tank for sale?" Valarie questioned.

"Oh, yes we do. Wee little French tank, AMR 35."

"Mind explaining why you're selling it?"

"There's nothing wrong with it if that's where ya going at."

"I wasn't, but I appreciate the reassurance."

"Mmm, well, the reason why is because really no one on my team wants to crew it. It has a wee cannon that cannot more than dent the big boys on the battlefield."

"Sure, it's no brawler, but I bet it can serve great as a scout and I bet it's not slow either."

"Nope, fifty-five kilometers to the hour. Hey, do you understand kilometers?"

"I do, my tank is a T-44. Its speedometer is in metric."

"Good, another thing to know about international tankery, everything is in metric."

"Figures. May I see the tank?"

"Sure thing!"

Cara and Valarie went back to the garage, where Cara then showed Valarie the French tank. It was indeed, a 'wee' tank. It was only a few inches taller than her. She turned her gaze to the main armament, a 25mm antitank gun capable of delivering 46 millimeters of penetration when the target is in range, which tends to be point-blank.

"It looks like it's in good shape." noted Valarie.

"Should be, we haven't used the thing during our own nationals."

Valarie paced around the tank, studying each and every feature that caught her eye. She had a hand on her chin as she was thinking. This tank would bring the least amount of firepower to the team, in addition to having the smallest crew at two. A tank crew literally could not get any smaller. Nonetheless, it's small stature brought to her mind all sorts of possibilities. For, at the end of the day, having the biggest gun on the battlefield did not guarantee victory. Their engagements with Oceanside's T95 and Molly Pitcher's E100 thoroughly confirmed that.

"A 'wee' tank," Valarie then said, "is actually what I think my team needs."

"How did ya come to that conclusion?" Cara asked with some curiosity.

"My team already has a fair number of heavy hitters, such as our Super Pershing, IS-3, and SU-14. I would like to have more tanks on the opposite end of the spectrum. An AMR 35 will pair wonderfully with our Stuart and Puma."

"So, we got a deal then?"

Valarie shot a smile at her and extended a hand, who Cara was more than happy to shake with vigor.

"All right!" Cara then turned to a direction in the direction. "Shauna! Get the drinks!"

"Ah, drinks?"

"Some, heh, coffee to celebrate. It's a tradition around here. You drink coffee?"

"You know, recently, it has become a real favorite of mine."

"In that case, you're gonna love this"

In time, a girl with shiny black hair arrived with a tray. On it was two glass cups of piping hot coffee with cream on top. Valarie and Cara each grabbed a cup, clinked them, and took their sips. Immediately, Valarie was overwhelmed by the strength of the drink, only barely swallowing it.

"Oh my god," she sputtered out. "What the hell is in this coffee?"

"Whiskey."

"Your joking!"

"I am not. It's Irish coffee. Of course, it will have alcohol of some sort! Preferably whiskey."

Valarie took another sip, a smaller one this time around, and hummed pleasantly.

"Hmm, it's an acquired taste. I'm starting to like it."

"That's it! Ah, if only it wouldn't scald our tongues would I dare ya to down your coffee in one go."

"Aw, too bad." Valarie replied sarcastically.

They finished their coffees and their cups were taken away. Valarie gave Cara a phone number.

"That number will get the ball rolling in purchasing this tank."

"Awesome. Now, I do think there are some more lessons for your team to learn?"

"I believe that is the case. Let's get to it, shall we?"

The rest of the Mojave Rose team, once they enjoyed their breakfast, were directed to a nearby field. Cara stood in front of them all, checking her watch.

"How far away you reckon they are?" Shauna asked in a whisper.

"Not too far. You know the girls. They are never tardy."

"The Americans are in for one hell of a showing, eh?"

"For sure."

Cara looked away from Shauna and faced Mojave Rose. She cleared her voice and began speaking.

"Alright! Everyone! Here's the next reason that makes the internationals different. They start in the early morning and have a tendency to last all day! From experience, my team had a match go from eight o'clock in the morning and did not end till five the following morning! With long matches not at all uncommon, it's inevitable that you will find yourself short on supplies, most importantly, fuel and ammo. So...how do you get more?"

Suddenly, there was the sound of an engine. It was loud and grew in strength as it approached. The Mojave Rose team looked around, puzzled. Their eyes were scanning in all directions, trying to determine the source of this mystery vehicle. For Valarie, this engine that they were all hearing belonged to no tank, so she was at a loss on what it was. The same cannot be said for Jacqueline. She was the first of the team to turn her gaze skyward.

"No way," she remarked in astonishment. "A Skytrain!"

Overhead, a C-47 Skytrain suddenly buzzed everyone on the ground. The sound and power of its heavy dual engines thrilled them all, with people laughing manically over the rush of adrenaline in their bodies. With the aircraft being so close, the markings on it could easily be made out, black and white lines on either wind and tail section. As quickly as it came, it was already becoming a dot in the distance, its engines reducing to an echo.

"At certain points in a match," Cara continued. "Planes such as that Skyrain will fly over the battlefield to parachute in supplies. These caches are announced to both teams so that they will have to fight for them to earn them. This not only deals with the problems of running low on ammo and fuel, but also deters stalemates as supple drops can encourage teams to get moving."

Cara waited patiently as the rush of being buzzed by a cargo plane subsided among the Mojave Rose team.

"I would have never expected planes to play a role, but excited all the same!" Valarie remarked.

"It's pretty damn cool ain't it? The sounds of those birds always get the team smiling. Now, ah, for something else," Cara said, looking right at the IS-3 crew. "Let's see what you boys can do."

As Ray and his friends went off to their tank, Redwood and Buchanan were elsewhere. The two were with the instructor of Saint Apollonia's tankery team. They were all in a little office by the garage.

"This is all very generous of you...Fiona, right?" Buchanan said.

"Yep. And let me say my congratulations on your teams victory in your nationals. Now, onto business. Instructing a team as they go about the internationals is understandably a bigger responsibility. You will really need to be on top of things to ensure that things go smoothly," Fiona explained. She reached underneath her desk and got out a book and handed it to Buchanan. "This here is all the rules and regulations for an international tankery match, as crafted and enforced by the International Tankery Federation, which in truth, is just the various tankery governing bodies around the world coming together to set rules and standards for international matches. Though, it's Japan's Sensha-Dō Federation that is the most influential. I forget, ah, what is your country's regulating body? The...something...association?"

"American Tankery Association." Buchanan informed.

"Ah, yes, that's it. I bet you're familiar with them."

"_Very _familiar. Thanks for the rulebook, Ill be sure to review it thoroughly."

Behind them, the door opened a woman appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, right on time. Mister Redwood, my associate here will hand you material on how to effectively and efficiently administrate a tankery team. If you will follow her."

"I'll take any help I can get." Redwood said, leaving with Fiona's associate. Once the door closed, she looked back at Buchanan.

"Do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

"Um, sure?"

"You're expecting, aren't ya?"

"Oh...ah...I am. How can you tell?"

"From someone who has three daughters of their own, I know all the tell-tale signs. Though, I knew it for sure when during breakfast you declined the Irish coffee. You would have to know what's in it."

"Huh, guess that's a giveaway."

"So, how far are you along?"

"About a month pregnant now."

"Oh! How exciting! This your first?"

"Yes!"

"You're in a magical journey, not even kidding!"

"I know, right?!"

Back outside, the roar of the IS-3's engine resonated throughout the area. The Soviet machine drove along a dirt road, stopping just by Cara and a group of girls. Ray popped out the hatch.

"Alright, what do you want us to do?" he asked her.

"Follow the road your on. It'll lead you lot to an obstacle course that concludes at a firing range."

"Sounds easy enough."

"Go on then, show us what ya got!"

The IS-3 accelerated forward and followed the dirt path before them. The rain from the previous day has made it somewhat muddy and in no time at all was the heavy tank getting covered with the earth. The road then bent to their left and saw the obstacle course as mentioned by Cara. The first part was a pool of dirty water. The IS-3 drove into the water, getting partially submerged but nothing concerning. Producing a wake behind them, the tank slowly but surely made it to the other side, the water cleaning the grime that only returned as they were now back on the road. The next challenge was a bridge that was just wide enough for them. The IS-3 slowed to a crawl as it got on to the bridge. Ray had half his body out of the hatch, watching intensely at their tracks to ensure that they were in a good position.

"More to the left...left...left...right!"

The IS-3 jerked to the right and prevented itself from falling. The bridge was crossed without any more tension and they marched along to the next portion. Here, Ray ordered the tank to a halt to gauge the situation. Ahead were antitank hedgehog obstacles set in an organized fashion.

"Slow and steady." he ordered.

Resuming the drive, the IS-3 methodically maneuvered around the hedgehogs. There were a lot of turning involved to successfully avoid running into the traps, though in most cases, just by mere inches. After some minutes of tedious and careful driving, the IS-3 left each trap without even touching them. Now on open ground, they picked up speed and made rapid progress on the course. The final portion was fast approaching. They reached the top of the hill and came to a stop. Scanning the environment ahead of them, they saw a moving target. A radio-controlled mock Panzer IV. It was smaller than the real thing but big enough to be seen from one thousand meters out.

"That must be what we're shooting at," Ray remarked, looking through his periscope. The little Panzer IV then started moving erratically. "Well, they won't be making it easy on us. Take aim!"

The turret turned and tracked the Panzer IV. Ryan found it to be harder than he thought as the little tank was moving with far more agility and speed than the real thing could ever achieve.

"Ancy, aren't you?" he remarked, face pressed against the gunsight.

A round was loaded and the gun was ready.

"Fire when ready." Ray said.

Ryan eased his breathing as the gunsight was trained on the Panzer IV. He then pressed the trigger, sending a round downrange. It hit the mock Panzer, piercing the metal, showering sparks of metal in all directions. The resulting explosion obliterated the Panzer IV. Once the fire and smoke cleared, the wreck was smoldering and unrecognizable. Total destruction.

"Good effect on target." Ray reported.

"That's quite the understatement." Ryan said.

At his command, the IS-3 drove to the end of the course. There, Cara and some other girls were waiting for their return. Ray opened his hatch and hopped out to meet them.

"So, did we pass your test or what?" he told them.

"I speak for everyone when we thought that you and your fellas were being carried by the ladies. But you completing the course in a very respectable time proves to all of us that you can pull your weight and then some. But I do wonder about this," Cara said, getting closer to him. "How do you focus with all those ladies around?"

He smirked at her. "It's easy when you're dating one of them."

Cara, smiling herself, gave him a pat on the back. "Can't disagree with that. Drive on back to the garage and we'll continue right along with our activities."

Everyone regrouped at Saint Apollonia's garage. By now, it was the afternoon and even with the sun high in the sky, the day remained mild and cool. As most of the team were hanging out and learning from their Irish counterparts, Cara went up to Valarie.

"Hey, who is the co-captain of your team?" Cara asked.

"That'd be Ray. Commander of the tank that just impressed you."

"And continues to impress me. Call him to ya, if you please."

Valarie called him over and the two were now together.

"Now," Cara began. "Right before matches begin, the leadership of both teams is to meet and exchange words. Usually, such words are pleasant. But, ah, at times, they can be a bit contentious."

"...Contentious?" Ray asked with some hesitation.

"Ah, you know how schools have rivalries?"

They both nodded.

"Well, other schools have an intense, unwavering, blinding, _hatred_ toward their rivals. I have observed, and...ah...taken part of, some fights."

"Fights?!" Valarie remarked, stunned. "People throwing punches?"

"Aye. Never last more than ten seconds but when you're in the thick of it, time seems to slow down. For myself, I am proud to say that I knocked out the captain of a team from Surrey. Mmmhmm, gave her a brutal blow."

Valarie and Ray were both incredibly taken aback over this. Even more so at the fact that Cara admitted this so nonchalantly. She noted their faces and decided to calm them.

"Hey, don't you two worry your pretty heads over it. These things only happen between hated rivals. Your school has never been in the internationals, so you don't have any rivals. Just be all nice and friendly and you won't have any trouble."

"That's just who I am." Valarie said.

"Good, good, good. Well, I suppose those the major thing you oughta know. Other than that, the rest you should be well acquainted with. You know, the shooting and all...wait...oh! I've almost forgotten one important thing. Gifts."

Ray and Valarie glanced at each other, curious, as Cara went off to a section of the garage. She soon returned with a case, set it down on the table, and opened it away from them.

"So, I've mentioned earlier that matches tend to all the way through the night."

"Oh, that's right!" Valarie remarked. "I never thought of it earlier, but now, I wonder. How can we see the other team at night? Our Panther II has night vision but, that's it. The rest of us would be blind."

"I've got your solution right here!" Cara exclaimed gleefully. Out of the case, she showed the pair something that made them jolt. They never expected to see such a thing right before there aims.

"What!? No damn way!" Ray said, stunned.

"That...that's not what I think it is, is it?" Valarie asked.

"Oh, ho, ho, yes_ indeed_. This here is an M79 40mm Grenade launcher, specially modified to solely fire illumination and smoke rounds"

She handed the launcher to Valarie, who held it with awe. It felt heavy. She peered down the sights to get a feel for the thing.

"This...is allowed?"

"Oh, yes, quite so. It's the solution set by the International Federation for teams to fight at night should it be necessary. One that I wholeheartedly agree with because shooting the thing is stupid fun."

"Damn, international tankery is a whole other ball game." Ray said with utter delight.

"Each commander is permitted to have their own launcher. As such, I have got thirteen of those thumpers for you lot. Just promise me you'll have a hell of a time with 'em."

"Oh, we absolutely will!" Valarie promised.

The sun had now begun to set and with all of their business at an end, the Mojave Rose team was now well-versed to how international tankery is conducted. As they boarded their bus to take them back to their ship, Valarie spoke once more with Cara.

"You've been a wonderful help. Thank you for the gifts as well."

"Aye, no trouble at all. And thank you for getting that AMR off our hands. We'll make sure that wee tank is on ya ship before leaving."

"Oh, one more thing, if you can say, who are you rooting for during the internationals?"

"Well, I don't know who I want to win. Yet, I sure as hell know who I want to lose."

"Whose that?"

"The school representing the United Kingdom is a god-damn rotten English school. I hope those fuckers get handed a humiliating defeat and their school ship sinks to the bottom of the channel on the way home."

"Well, ah, um, you sure are passionate about...England."

"I'd say more about the English but the tournament will be over before I'll be done with them. Good luck Valarie. You're gonna need it. Italy is nothing to mess with."

Cara and Valarie shook hands and boarded the bus. Once the doors closed, they were off back to port.

* * *

Taking an evening stroll, Jacqueline was enjoying the fresh sea air. The day she had, much like the rest of the team, was pretty fantastic. She was joined by Lana, the driver of the SU-14 self-propelled gun.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask. When that plane flew over us earlier today, you knew what it was." Lana asked.

"I have a thing for planes." Jacqueline shared.

"Oh? In what way?"

"The same way Valarie knows tanks, I know planes."

"That's cool!" Lana remarked. Her attention was then diverted elsewhere as she could hear the distant thunder of engines. "What are those planes then?"

Looking up, Jacqueline looked to where Lana pointed and studied the flying aircraft closely. Thankfully, the sun had not yet set so the planes were still fairly visibly. Their figures were unmistakable to Jacqueline.

"Five Lockheed C-5M Super Galaxies, flying toward mainland Europe. Don't see that every day." she determined.

"I wonder whose flying 'em."

"We don't have to wonder," Jacqueline said, taking out the tablet she was carrying in her bag. "Thankfully, I've installed an air radar app, so we'll find out who is flying those planes. Probably the Irish Air Corps on maneuvers. Though, I would've never guessed they operated such huge planes"

She opened the app and on the radar, saw five planes on her screen, flying together in formation.

"That's them," she said, tapping on one of the planes. The information that popped up, however, puzzled her.

"Huh," she uttered. "These planes are registered in...Japan? And it doesn't even say it's part of any air force."

"Sooo, what are they?"

"I have no clue. Not even one of their callsigns is giving me any hints. 'SUAD1776'. That's all the information this app is giving me. Gah, should've sprung for the paid version. It probably would've told me everything."

The two girls just watched the Super Galaxies fly off toward continental Europe. Their powerful engines fading away with each passing moment. Soon, only the blinking of their strobe lights on the edges of their wings gave any indication of their presence. Yet that too would soon fade. To destinations unknown.


	47. Chapter 47

_July 4th, 2013_

_At Sea_

What were all the teams of the world fighting for? The grand honor of victory, of course, yet, there was something more. Something tangible. An object that you can actually hold in your hand triumphantly as it represented all the efforts that have brought you to the end. It weighed just shy over two pounds, and though ceremonial, easily capable of ending a life with a single stroke much like others of its kind in eras long gone. It was made of the finest silver, exquisitely polished that made it double not only as a mirror but also a blade. The hilt was crafted with steel, with the grip composed of a fine wood colored a dark brown. All of it sheathed in an elegantly constructed scabbard made with the same silver as of the blade, with hoops on it so that it can be attached to a person's clothing. Truly, there was no finer Pattern 1796 light cavalry sabre in the world.

"Wow, the trophy is a literal sword?" Ashley remarked with some amazement. She looking on a computer screen, reading about the internationals.

"A cavalry sabre, to be precise," Heather corrected. "And it is appropriate. Countries tend to call their tank units mechanized calvary."

"Guess so. Hey, do we still have the meeting today? It's the fourth of July."

"Oh, you gonna go outside and wave the flag while reciting national anthem perfectly?"

"No, I just want to sleep in."

There was a knock at the door. Walking over, Heather opened it and found Valarie fully dressed in her uniform.

"Yeah," Valarie said a bit apologetically. "We still have a meeting to go to. Sorry, it's not my call, it's Miss Buchanan's."

"We'll be right there, give us a few minutes." Heather said.

With a nod, Valarie departed and Heather closed the door.

"Well, there goes your hope of a day off."

Ashley groaned. "Ugh. Fine."

"Don't wanna go, heh, AWOL for today?"

"You know Heather, I don't think anyone on the team seen Miss Buchanan mad. And I don't want to be the first. Also...she's been real nice to me. Don't wanna squander that good faith we have between us."

"Alrighty. Let's get dressed then."

The two got in their uniforms, a task that they could do blindfolded now. Soon, they caught up with the rest of the team at the garage. There, everyone noticed the new addition parked within. People who walked by glanced at it for several moments, grinned, and continued walking to their own vehicles. Those that went up to it were amused by its small stature, especially the 25mm gun. Paige was among those who approached the light French tank. In her hand was one of the grenade launchers that Saint Apollonia had generously gifted the team.

"Can't believe that in my hand is a bigger gun."

Elsewhere, Valarie and Madison were together in conversation.

"With the purchase taken care of, now there's the issue of getting a crew. We just need two. Two people on the other side of the world. Damn"

"Hmm, that's quite the predicament." Madison remarked.

"Mister Redwood has already got two people for the tank. They are just waiting back in California. Man, they're gonna miss the first match."

"How so?"

"You told me that we wouldn't return back to America until August. Our first match is on July 24th."

"True," Madison said slowly. A smile appeared on her face as an idea has hit her. Valarie wasn't oblivious to this.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just thinking about later today. There's gonna be a fireworks show, you know."

"Really? Where?"

"They'll be launched from the park, but since we go all out, you can really see them wherever you are on the ship. So, if I were you, I'd be camped out on your balcony come just before eight o'clock."

"I think I'll do that."

Elsewhere in the garage, Ray was with his crew. He had something in his hands that made them curious. A book of some sort. They knew he was a reader but this book he had in his possession had no words.

"You got a...sticker book?" Cesar inquired.

"Oh, yes I did. And I think you all will like the reason why."

He opened it and flipped through pages, looking and arriving at a section in particular. He turned and showed them the book. It was filled completely with flags.

"You know in World War II, how fighter pilots whenever they shot down an enemy pilot, had some sort of marking to represent the kill?"

They nodded.

"Well, I thought, why not we do something like that?"

"So, we put stickers on the tank?" Ryan asked.

"No, they're too small to be noticed. Instead, I was thinking that we put them on our helmets."

Exchanging glances, his crew contemplated his idea and grew from liking it to loving it. They took off their helmets and had them in their hands, ready to apply the stickers.

"Alright, rather than putting the U.S flag to represent all our victories in the nationals, it'd be cooler to put up the state flags of where the enemy schools came from. Also, I want the sticker placement to be neat. Don't place 'em at random."

With instructions dispensed, Ray passed around the stickers and they stuck them on their helmets. Soon, the flags of California, Arizona, Virginia, New York, and Massachusetts were applied. It gave their helmets a vibrant color that was desperately needed. They all looked at each other and grinned. Ray then tapped on the flag of Virginia.

"This one, above all, the most well deserved."

They all agreed gleefully. Ray then flipped a few more pages and showed them another set of flags.

"Let's make this the next one." he said, pointing to the Italian flag.

They were determined to have Italy on their helmet, to make it a reality. Done decorating, they resumed their routine tasks of maintaining their heavy Soviet machine. Every member of the team was at work, doing tasks they have done so many times before that they have become experts at their jobs. As everyone worked, one thought dominated all their minds; the future. It was uncertain, never set in stone. What the coming days, weeks, and months had in store for them, no one had the slightest idea. Only one thing was known.

They will face it and overcome.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too ashamed to admit then when I put my work on hiatus, I cried a little. They just mean so much to me. So, reflecting this past month got me thinking. One day, I would like to be a published author and be a writer as a living. I've realized that such a dream will never be realized if I never, well, you know, write.
> 
> I am in a better place than when I started this hiatus. I'm all refreshed and now more determined more than ever to finish this story.
> 
> Normal schedule resumes. New chapters Mondays & Fridays.
> 
> Enjoy!

_July 4th, 2013_

_At Sea_

The ship moved steadily toward Spain, where the Mojave Rose tankery team are to make their international debut against Italy. But their match is still some weeks away so there was no grand sense of urgency. Not yet anyway. For now, the team were tending to their vehicles. Their regular duties were done efficiently as not only are they all intimately familiar`

with their vehicles and can diagnose and fix damn near all problems, but also, they wanted to be finished for today because it was the Fourth of July and they all had their own plans to celebrate. This was felt by Buchanan who was now really starting to feel the symptoms of her pregnancy. It was still not to a point where it was obvious to outside observers that she was expecting, but mentally, she was keenly aware. She turned to Redwood and brought her voice low.

"I...I feel god awful. This morning sickness is really kicking my ass. Ugh. I'm...going to go handle it. Bring the meeting to a close, please?"

"You got it."

Buchanan left the garage, doing her best to look as nonchalant as possible and not suddenly relocate her previous meal all over the floor. With Redwood at the helm, he supervised for several minutes but the concern he had for his soon-to-be-wife grew by the second. Looking at the time, it was just barely eleven. Contemplating for just a moment, he knew that he had a more important place to be.

"Alright!" he shouted, grabbing everyone's attention. "We're done for today. What's a holiday if you don't enjoy it?"

No one on the team wasted a second. Everyone darted away, back to the apartment complex to get the holiday started. Alone, Redwood got to locking the place off. He couldn't help but laugh a little.

"You kids give 100-meter sprinters a run for their money."

At the apartment complex, the team got out of their uniforms and wore something more casual. People trickled out, in groups, in all directions as they all each had their own ways to spending the day. Outside, Ashley was waiting for Heather to come out when Louise walked out. Her in jeans and a summer shirt was interesting in conjunction with her blue facial tattoos. Only she could rock such a look. Looking at her made Ashley spawn a question that she just had to ask.

"Hey, um, does your tribe even celebrate the Fourth of July?"

Louise spent a moment thinking of a response. "Well. I can see where you're going at. We just treat it like any other day. The fireworks are cool, though."

She then stepped forward toward Ashley, the look on her face growing serious. "When November comes, ask me about Thanksgiving. I'll give you a whole _different _response."

More people of the team walked out. Ray and Natalie, hands clasped, stood outside, pondering their options on how to spend the day.

"Obviously we're gonna watch the fireworks later tonight. But what about now?" Natalie asked him.

He gave her a smile. "How about a—"

"Restaurant?" she finished for him. "Yeah, I'd like that. But what kind?"

"There's this place that serves specialty hot dogs. Appropriate, huh?"

"Lead the way."

Inside, in her apartment, Valarie sat on her bed, deep in thought about the coming match. What was annoying her was the fact that the new crew for the AMR 35 wouldn't be here until August. She really didn't like the fact that the team had a tank at the ready with no one to crew it. The AMR 35 only had a 25mm gun, but with it being speedy and small, the opportunities for it was endless. Valarie can easily picture it as an excellent scout and ambusher. She soon stopped thinking about it. What can she do about it? With a small sigh, she stood up from her bed and made her way outside. There, Emma was waiting for her. By now, everyone else in the team has left and are scattered around town.

"So, what's the plan?" Emma asked with a smile on her face.

"I was thinking that we just walk around," Valarie suggested. "just explore what this ship has to offer."

"Sounds good."

They began their walk of the town, their hands together and inseparable. They passed by the various shops looking at the displays. On the street they were on, the aroma of food cooking filled the air as Fourth of July cook-outs were well underway. The restaurants, as expected, were filled to the brim with customers, with the servers and cooks visibly busy to ensure that good times were had by all. The girls would've stopped by one of these restaurants but with each of them being crowded, decided otherwise and continued walking. With the celebratory atmosphere, them walking together was a tranquil and enjoyable. Just holding hands excited them like nothing else on Earth. During their stroll, the abandoned building Alice mentioned during their tour of the ship came into view. She stopped to look at it for a moment.

"So, people really go up that thing to hang out huh?" she wondered aloud.

"Yeah...hang out" Emma said with some hesitation.

"You know, we should go up that thing. At least once. The view up there must be something special."

Emma's cheeks became a faint red and found it impossible to not smile. "Uhh, sure, we just gotta make sure we're not...interrupting anyone when we do."

"I don't think people will care if others go up there."

"Still, ah, a place like that is best enjoyed privately."

"Mmm. I can see your point."

By now, the sun has reached its zenith in the sky and that was made apparent with the increasing heat. Though being no stranger to high temperatures, being from the Mojave and all, it did not mean that they had to remain outside. A cafe was found that wasn't too terribly populated. They entered, ordered some drinks, and spent the afternoon with each other lost in conversation. As the sky began to darken, it was a signal to everyone that the climax of the festivities was soon to begin. Valarie and Emma returned to the apartment complex and stood on Valarie's balcony. Looking straight ahead was waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Turning to the right and the park could be seen in the distance. Sat on chairs, they waited for the fireworks, with some people in town kicking off things early by lighting fireworks of their own, thuds and cracks being heard infrequent. Then, all the lights in the town were turned off, as if a blackout had just occurred. But it was all intentional. At eight o'clock sharp, the skies over Inspiration Park erupted in fabulous and colorful explosions, illuminating the ship with their light. Catalina spared no expense in their Independence Day celebrations. The intensity never let up, as if the fireworks were continually being fired from multiple Katyusha rocket launchers. Only Berlin could say they received more explosions. So magnificent was this display that passing ships miles away could see it. The light show was all they needed to know that the school ship was American

_July 5th_

_Port of Gijon, Spain_

The ship arrived in Spain in the early morning hours. Though the match was some time away, it was decided that it was wise to make port in the country as early as possible should some unforeseen circumstance complicate their journey. The ramps were deployed and a multitude of people were making their way down to begin exploring what Spain has to offer. As these tourists congregated at the port getting their transport in order, two people, a girl and a boy, each with suitcases and backpacks were making their way up on board the ship. Once topside, the girl stopped and let her baggage fall to the ground.

"Oooh yeah, that is what the doctor ordered." she uttered, stretching her back. Once this little exercise was done, she took out her phone. "Okay, from the email we got, the garage ain't too far from here. That should be where everyone else is."

She grabbed her bags and glanced at the boy she was with. "Follow me and don't get lost like you did in the mall back home."

He groaned. "God, get lost _one _time five years ago and you never let me hear the end of it."

"Only because it was so funny."

"I was crying when I got lost."

"Yeah, that's why it's funny!"

He rolled his eyes and kept up with her as the pair navigated to their destination. Reviewing the email frequently, they arrived at the garage without a hitch. The large doors were open and they could see the tanks within, with the team carrying out their routine.

"Oh wow, there's the team." the boy remarked. "Which one is ours again?"

"Eh, a small one. But we can make it work. Let's go on in."

Entering the garage, it wasn't long before they started attracting attention. Marielle, noting the visitors, hopped off the VK and walked over to them.

"Um, hello? You looking for someone or planning to move in here?" she said, referring to their baggage.

"Heh, funny," the girl said with a smile. "We're looking for Valarie."

"Ah," Marielle remarked. She pointed toward the far wall of the garage. "Go all the way down, her tank will be on your right."

"Cool, cool. Thanks."

The pair went to where Marielle told them to and found the person they wanted to see. Valarie stood on top the T-44, looking down on the engine deck performing the usual inspection. Madison was hanging around and was the first of the group to see the new arrivals. Her face erupted into a smile as she tugged on Valarie's uniform to get her attention. Turning around, she saw them.

"Oh, hello," she said to them, climbing off the tank to meet them. "Who are you two?"

"Um, don't ya know? We're your new team members." the girl told her.

"Wait...what?" Valarie said with shock. "I thought you two wouldn't be here until August?"

"That's what we thought to, but our parents got a call, one thing led to another, and we were then on a plane to Spain. We flew in first class! About time we get the celebrity treatment."

"First class...?" Valarie remarked. She then turned to Madison who failed spectacularly to play ignorant about the situation. "I should've known."

"Hey, you wished that they would be here before the first match of the tournament." Madison told her.

"Yeah...though wishes aren't typically granted. Nonetheless, I am ~thrilled~ that you two are here. We can just jump right into training. But, first things first, introduce yourselves."

The girl grinned as she was looking forward to this moment all her life. She was wearing a Chicago Cubs jersey. Not any regular jersey, but one that resembled the jersey worn by the players in 1907. It was without a doubt one of her most prized possessions. The vintage-ness of her jersey matched the ballcap on her blonde hair, with it being a faded gray. Her athletic pants sealed the deal. Looking at her, Valarie had an inkling that she liked baseball.

"I'm Cassidy," the girl said with some boastfulness. "And this is my baby brother Nathan. He also goes by Mister N, Lil' N, Nathan The Destroyer, and just simply N."

"I go by literally _none_ of them." Nathan corrected, irritated.

"Oh, Lil'N, you're a riot." Cassidy teased, enjoying every single second.

Nathan shared the same blond hair as his sister, with it being mid-length. Cassidy's hair was longer than his, but one wouldn't know that as she tied it all up into a bun so that her ballcap can fit nice and snug on her head. He was younger than her by two years at fourteen. He was in middle school just earlier in the summer and now, this August is to start his freshman year at Mojave Rose. He had one hell of a babyface.

"Brother and sister huh? Well, hopefully that makes crew synergy flow good." Valarie remarked.

"Don't worry about a thing," Cassidy assured. "I'll make sure he won't mess up."

"Cass..." Nathan said.

"Alright you two, let's get you acquainted with your tank." Valarie then said.

They were led to where the AMR 35 was parked. It was waiting for them. Cassidy and Nathan went up to the tank to examine it closely. They were aware that they were going to operate a small tank from the get-go, but the tank looked puny compared to the other tanks of the team.

"This thing ain't no brawler, huh?" Cassidy asked.

"Not one bit," Valarie answered. "But it is fast and can hide pretty much anywhere."

"Mmm, I like the sound of that. Getting people where they least expect it."

"Now, time to get roles settled. Since there is only two of you—"

"I wanna drive!" Nathan exclaimed, interrupting her.

"Knock yourself out. That just makes be the commander." Cassidy remarked with glee.

"And the loader and gunner." Valarie added.

"And the what, what?" Cassidy remarked, surprised.

"Yeah, ah, with only a crew of two, the division of labor isn't great. You are the commander, in addition to being the loader and gunner."

Cassidy processed the information for a moment and then turned toward Nathan with a smile he was all too familiar with. She wanted something from him.

"Hey buddy! Wanna switch? Being the commander is actually super cool! You'd be making history, ya know? Being the first male commander in tankery!"

"Nope!" Nathan with the utmost joy. Having something his sister wanted and keeping it brought neverending happiness.

"Alright, have it your way," Cassidy said with a frown. "Asshole."

"Oh, and, we already have a male commander." Valarie informed.

With a sigh, Cassidy accepted the role of commander. And gunner. And loader.

"With your roles taken care of, now you need a callsign. Preferably desert-themed.

"Oh! How about—" Nathan began but his sister put her hand over his mouth.

"Hey! You already got what you wanted. I'm choosing our callsign."

"Okay..."

Cassidy pondered for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. She perked up as the ideal callsign came to mind.

"_Skink._ That'll be our callsign." she announced.

"Wow, that was what I was gonna say!" Nathan remarked.

"My ass. You're just saying that."

"No, really!"

"Sure, sure."

In her playbook, Valarie wrote down the roles of Cassidy and Nathan and their callsign so that they'll always be remembered.

"Alright, that's done and dusted. We'll get you guys your uniforms tomorrow right before we start practice. Which are every Saturday by the way. For now, let's get you situated in your apartments."

"Sweet," Cassidy remarked. She thrust her bag into Nathan's chest, forcing him to carry her things. "Oh, thanks for the help Nathan. Can always count on ya."

He grumbled to himself as he carried and pulled all of their luggage. Right before Madison led them both to their units, Valarie spoke with Cassidy a bit longer.

"So, I take it you like baseball?"

"Like it? That word is way too weak to describe how I feel about the sport. I've played in teams for schools, clubs, events, hell, I'll just join a random game in a park if one's happening."

"So, why are you doing tankery instead of being in a baseball team?"

"I'll show ya," Cassidy said. She knelt down, struggling as she did, and lifted up one of the cuffs of her pants. It revealed that she was wearing a knee brace. "Back in March, I tore my ACL while trying to avoid a tag. Man...did it hurt. The moment I heard the 'pop', that was game over for me. I fell to the ground yelling every swear word I know. Soon, I ran out of curse words in English and swore in Spanish. Since then, I've had surgery and been wearing this brace to help heal. With the severity of my injuries, I can't play sports like baseball for months. Tankery, on the other hand, I can do. I want to remain active in any way I can."

"And bring your little brother along for the ride?"

"Yep. Gotta keep an eye on that little guy."

Valarie took a look at her jersey. "So. A cubs fan?"

"Oh for sure," Cassidy said with vigor. "My dad is a cubs fan, his dad was one, and—"

"I think I get it. Their whole thing is that they haven't won the world series in like forever, yeah?"

"Okay," Cassidy said with some embarrassment. "I'll admit, they don't have much luck going for them. But they _will _win one day and I _will_ see it as it happens. I'm just a sucker for underdogs."

Valarie chuckled. "You and me both."

_July 6th_

The morning sun was providing a nice blanket of warmth that covered the ship. Over at Inspiration Park, the Mojave Rose team were readying themselves for yet another day of practice. Among them was the AMR 35 crew, who were beyond eager for their first outing in the French tank. At their location within the park, Valarie was with them giving them instruction.

"For today, the focus will be on you both getting up to speed. To get familiar with your roles and your tank," she explained to them. "It's gonna be a bumpy road, but man, will it be fun."

She put on her helmet and went to her tank. This wordless action commanded everyone to mount their vehicles. Over the radio, Valarie continued relaying instructions.

"Drive along the dirt road just ahead of you. Test that suspension of yours."

The AMR moved forward three feet before stalling out.

"Um..." Cassidy muttered

"Er, meant to do that. Testing the, ah, transmission." Nathan remarked.

The AMR was restarted and one its second attempt made much better progress with it actually driving along the road. It moved merrily along at a steady pace but soon, Cassidy grew impatient. She knew this tank can go faster.

"C'mon Nathan, put the pedal to the metal! Test this engine to the max!"

"Now that, we can agree on!"

Slamming down on the throttle, the AMR accelerated to its top speed of fifty-five kilometers per hour. The road it was on had little rocks strewn about. No issue at all for all the other tanks on the team. What Valarie said to them was more literal than they thought as it was a bumpy ride for the little AMR. But it was fun. Stupid fun. And they haven't even fired their gun yet. The rest of the time followed them as this particular path led to where they practiced shooting. It was the most isolated place within the park, a large clearing in the forest with a mound of dirt leftover when the park was being formed. It was 1000 meters away from the team. Crater Hill's sea-faring brother.

"Take aim at the mound ahead of you." Valarie ordered.

The turret of the AMR 35 was just barely big enough for one person to maneuver around. It was a feeling that Cassidy would just have to get used to. With her orders received, she grabbed a 25mm shell from the rock, weighing just shy of three pounds.

"These things weigh like nothing. Could throw 'em like baseballs if I really wanted too." she remarked to herself.

She loaded the gun and got herself familiar with the gun sights.

"Okay...okay...not as cryptic as I thought."

Adjusting a bit, she was comfortable with her rangefinding.

"That dirt won't see what hit 'em. Ready to fire!" she announced over the radio.

Getting a chuckle out of Valarie, she gave them the order. "Fire."

The 25mm cannon fired, producing a sharp crack in the air. The round sailed at 950 meters per second toward the mound, where it impacted and tossed pieces of the Earth in all directions. The mound never stood a chance.

"Good effect on target, _Skink_." Valarie complimented. She then instructed the rest of the team to proceed with practice as she and Ray went over to the AMR for further teaching.

"This gun handles pretty nice." Cassidy said once she hopped off her tank.

"It's not bad at all. Though with a max effective range of 800 meters, you're not much of a sniper." said Valarie.

"Ah, don't worry. I'm more of an 'in-your-face' type of person. A real force a'nature."

"That, I look forward to seeing."

Just a few feet away, Ray was with Nathan. Giving him a talk that he did not look forward too.

"Tell me Nathan, who do you know about tankery?"

"Well, I know tanks are involved and they shoot each other for sport. What more is there?"

"Have you ever noticed that in all the advertising for the sport, that a guy is never shown on those tanks?"

Nathan got quiet for a moment as he looked down toward the grass, thinking. "Huh. Now that you mention it, yeah."

"Thing is, this sport is traditionally feminine. Most girls though? Don't care at all that guys like us are taking part in. Just look at the girls on this team. They. Don't. Care. That's most girls. Some, however, have a real problem with us. They have this intense hate that we have the 'audacity' to partake in this sport."

"What are they gonna do, beat us up?"

"Hell, if that's all they do, I'd be fine with that. But there are those who are willing to go to great lengths to see us fail. Whenever we have our matches, keep a close eye out. The entire team has your back."

"Thanks, I doubt anything bad will really happen but I'll keep what you said in mind."

"I hope nothing bad happens too."

With that, practice resumed. Saturday was spent helping the AMR crew learn the ropes of the sport. It was an exhaustive day as always. When it came to an end, the team made their way back to their apartments and lounged in their units for the remainder of the day.

_July 7th_

With Sunday inherently a day for lazing around, Valarie was more than content to remain in her apartment. With the windows open, the pleasant sea winds breezed through cooling her. The TV was on just for background noise as she lounged on the couch daydreaming off into space. Emma remained in bed as she wanted nothing more than to sleep in. After what seemed like an infinite amount of time, there was a soft knock on the door. Slowly getting up, she answered it and saw Madison carrying some sort of electronic

"What's up?" Valarie greeted. "What do you have there?"

"Oh, just an RF-562D AM/FM shortwave transistor radio."

Her detailed answered left Valarie stunned for just a moment. "You...know your radios?"

"They're sorta my thing. I collect them. Especially the vintage ones."

Entering, Madison set down the radio on the living room table and flicked on the power switch. All that came from the speakers was static.

"Val, you're familiar with radios, aren't you? Might I suggest tuning it 104.3 FM?"

Valarie approached the radio and tuned it as Madison specified. The static was cut off and in its place was a woman's voice with a British accent.

_"—and they were locked in close combat for the remainder of the day. Moving along, the beginning of July has seen the first match of the internationals. On July 1st, we saw France and Romania face off in South Africa. The French got hold of and kept the initiative from the get go, forcing the Romanians to be on the constant defensive. This wore them down but they admirably held on till around midnight when illumination flares launched by the French took them by surprise in an ambush, leading to their defeat."_

Valarie looked back at Madison. "So, a radio show all about tankery?"

"Yep! I figured you'd be interested in this to have your finger on the pulse of the competition."

"Oh, I _am_."

They continued listening to what the show had to share

_"The French will go against Sweden the following month. But for those who still want to see more action, fret not, as there is another match later this month. Italy versus the United States."_

"Oh! They're talking about us!" Valarie exclaimed.

_"Longtime fans of the internationals will be keenly aware that the Americans tend to not fare well at all at this level of competition. Their last win was in 1975. You heard that right. 1-9-7-5. Yes, the United States has sent a team to every world tournament since then, but, geez, it's just a serious of unfortunate events. Let's go over some of them. 1987. American team lost to Germany in the first round. Rough. 1991. They lost to Russia in November. Interesting fact about that match. The following month was when the USSR collapsed, so some people say that Russia's victory was the Soviet's last hurrah. I say that."_

"They don't have much optimism about you guys." Madison remarked.

"Yeah, they sure don't." Valarie responded, a bit gloomy.

Emma then entered the room. she was all dressed up and not at all looking like she just asleep minutes ago.

"I'm in a mood to go out. Watch a movie. Any movie."

"I'm game," Valarie said. "Madison?"

"Sure, I got time to waste. I know where the theater is. Let's go."

With this spontaneous plan upon them, the girls departed and went off to enjoy their Sunday. The radio was left in Valarie's apartment, still on, its sounds being heard by nothing. But still had worthy things to say.

_"For the month of August, they are two matches scheduled. You all already know about France versus Sweden, which is on August 13th. Then there is the match on August 23rd. Australia is going against Japan. Now, here's the interesting thing about Japan. They are not only—"_

The radio then went silent, for the batteries have gone dead.


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valarie gets belated gifts, Redwood and Buchanan get one hell of a surprise, and the final preperations for the internationals are well underway.

They were on all sides. Escape cut off. Backs to the wall. She couldn't hear the individual shots, no one could. The firepower upon them was so heavy that it was like a downpour of a hellish rain. A cacophony of chaotic firing. The environment around them was brutalized under this bombardment. The soil was charred, the grass burned, and the air filled with thick smoke. Visibility was steadily dropping, adding to the confusion and a panic was growing. Around her, return fire was dwindling as tanks on the team were immobilized one-by-one. From what she saw, the VK went down, then the Super Pershing, the IS-3, and couldn't see more because of the rising smoke. The radio was out, damaged earlier when this battle started. She didn't know how everyone else was faring but knew that the end was forthcoming. Then, the firing ceased, ushering in a gaunt quiet. She peaked out of her hatch, remaining as still as she can be. Is her tank the last one standing or has the team pulled of a magnificent come back? A silhouette emerging from the smoke answered her question and plunged her mood into despair. The approaching figure was a tank, a familiar one. Before she could spend much time contemplating everything that led the her to this moment, the enemy tank let loose a shell, bringing it all to an end.

.

.

.

When Valarie woke up, her eyes were wide and heart beating as if it was about to burst out of her chest. She threw off her blanket as she was in a sweat and sat up in her bed to think. Before starting tankery, her having dreams would be an absolute rarity, but since then, they were increasingly becoming common and none of them could be described as pleasant. Instead, each dream was becoming more of a nightmare. Of a worse cast scenario.

"Why can't I dream of something cool?" she spoke with herself. "Like saving the world or something?"

After some deep breathes that calmed her down, her then noticed the bed was more emptier than usual. Emma's spot was vacant. On a nightstand next to Emma's side of the bed, laid a note, which Valarie took. It read,

_"Taking care of some errands. See you very soon! 3"_

Setting it aside, she let out an exhaustive sigh. She grabbed her phone to check the date.

_July 10th, 2013_

Getting up, she then grabbed a towel. A shower will get her in a good mood, no doubt.

* * *

The errands was just a ruse, but by no means malicious. Earlier in the morning, Emma was awoken by a text from Madison who wanted to see her and only her. Confused, but more intrigued, Emma quietly got ready and departed the apartment to where Madison had told her to meet. It led to her to Catalina's campus, to the student council room. Ascending some stairs and traversing a hallway, Emma entered the room finding Madison sat at a table, busy before a computer.

"Hey," Emma greeted. "Watcha doing here?"

"As part of my responsibilities as president of the student council, they are to ensure that orientation be as smooth and stressfree for all involved."

"When is this all happening?"

"August 2nd is when this ship will return to the Port of Long Beach. Students will arrive the following Monday and by Wednesday the same week, orientation is to begin. Classes formally begin the Monday after, August 12th. Keep in mind, that is when you and the rest of the Mojave Rose team also start classes."

"Right. Though, I doubt you called me here to help out with organizing orientation, hmm?"

Madison shot her a smile. "Nope. I have a question but if I ask Valarie, it would spoil things."

"And what question is that?"

"When is her birthday?"

"April 16th."

Madison's face was one of disappointment. "God dammit, I missed it."

"Well, to be fair, you didn't know."

"Yeah...still..." Madison muttered. She thought for a moment before perking up. "Who's to say it's a rule to give people gifts only on their birthday?"

Madison got up from her desk and gestured Emma to follow.

"Let's go. We got a girl to spoil."

* * *

Within town, in a home that Madison's parents seldom use, is where Redwood and Buchanan were staying. It was very modern and suited their needs wonderfully. Though they won't get too attached to the place as they are just guests, they will for sure relish every possible moment. The two were together, filled with nervous excitement about what is to happen tomorrow.

"When is that appointment again?" Buchanan asked.

"Ten o'clock in the morning."

Buchanan breathed in and out audibly. "First ultrasound...lord...I'm so nervous."

"You and me both. But it'll be great." Redwood comforted.

"I know but..."she began but hesitated. "These ultrasounds are something people remember forever for two very different reasons. One, is where the parents meet their child for the first time. A moment that fills them will with every known good emotion a human can know. Then...there's the other reason. One that puts people in a deep depression. I don't have to spell it out for you."

"I know," he said gently. "But let's not dwell on that, hmm? It's going to go fine."

"Yes...yes it will." Buchanan replied. She remained silent for a moment. There was another thing on her mind. "I've been thinking about our wedding. Don't want it to happen too long from now. I'm feeling sometime this year."

"Hmm, sure. The sooner the better I feel. What kind of wedding do you have in mind?"

Buchanan again went silent. "Nothing extravagant or anything. Even though I have a half a million saved up, all that money is for the child. So, this wedding is gonna be modest."

"I got no problem with that." Redwood told her. "It just has be to special to us. So, you want to get married on this ship or when it returns to California and do it back in Barstow?"

"Heh, you know, I really like the idea of our wedding photo having the ocean in the background."

They both smiled.

"Alright, on the ship then." Redwood remarked. "When I go do errands, I pass by this event center as close to the edge of the ship as a building can be. They've for sure seen their fair share of weddings. They also have a raised platform ideal for taking photos."

"Then that's the place."

"Now, who are we inviting?"

The question for some reason threw Buchanan off, though she should have seen it coming as it was a question all soon-to-be married couples ask.

"Uh..." she said with hesitation. "Since...um...becoming a recluse because of, you know, nearly burning alive, I've become estranged from my family. It been years since I've talked to any of them."

"Oh..." Redwood remarked solemnly.

"What about yours?" Buchanan then asked.

"Well...for me...I've told you about my mom. Moved to Florida after winning it big at a casino. Not even the apocalypse will get her to leave because she loves where she lives so much. I would know. I hear it_ a__lo__t_ whenever we call each other. I don't know anyone else in my family well enough to invite them."

"Hmm."

They both entered into a period of pondering as they thought about how they would go forward. Then, they both looked at each other.

"Thankfully," Redwood said with a grin. "I happen to know a few dozen people who will be more than happy to attend. They're right nearby. Though, they are on the younger side."

Buchanan laughed a little. "I think we both know the same people."

* * *

It was midday and the Mojave Rose team were in the middle of their regular meeting. Each crew were stationed at their own vehicle. For the AMR 35 crew, their were still learning the ropes of properly maintaining their tank. Their were helped by the more veteran members of the team, answering any and all questions they had. Valarie watched from atop her T-44. Her involvement wasn't necessary. A huge grin was on her face, reflecting on how far the team had come from first coming together all those months ago. From hastily getting ready for their first match to know being on the world stage. She sat down on the turret and grabbed her playbook which was resting just beside her. It has grown so much from being the piece of paper when she first created it. The binder was thick with material of not only all the names of the people on the team, which tanks they belonged to, their roles, and callsigns, but also advice from all the commanders on the team for future reflection. Then there was the post-match reports Valarie has written for every match the team has participated in thus far. They provide detailed accounts of what transpired, tactics employed to and from the enemy team. An except from the report of the match with Bascom read,

"_Without a doubt, teams with self-propelled artillery guns ( SPAG ) who face off against a team who don't have any holds a clear advantage. Being able to knock out a tank from miles away in relative safety is something that every tankery team covets. Nonetheless, the amount of SPAG vehicles that are sanctioned to participated in tankery is limited. Most SPAG vehicles are open-topped, such as the German Wespe and British Sexton, disqualifying them from tankery matches. Vehicles such as the SU-14-2, though, are fair game. Basing a strategy around artillery is more often than not the right way to go.__"_

A few pages later, there was the report on the match with Old Dominion.

"_The team's first taste of 'urban' combat was in an old mining town in Montana. The experience it provided, while minimal, is still extremely beneficial. I can't predict when the next time the team will have a match where a town/city will be part of the battlefield. So any experience in such environments are helpful. However, what was also shown that when two teams engage in a town it will result in a stalemate. Creativity is demanded to break this, such as utilizing a 'haunted' house to scare the enemy into leaving their positions and providing an __opportunity__ to initiate a breakout. Furthermore, what this match __demonstrates__ is the willingness of some people to resort to unsavory means to achieve victory. Harassment. Sabotage. Unbelievable.__"_

The latest entry concerns Molly Pitcher.

"_Combat with Molly Pitcher shows that schools with huge amounts of wealth will employ the use of prototype vehicles on the field. Such vehicles are rare and schools will have to be incredibly lucky to find an actual prototype to use. If not, they will have to pay a large sum of money to commission a prototype vehicle to be manufactured for them with materiel accurate to the era the vehicle originates from. Molly Pitcher showcased a Standardpanzer E-100, a strong vehicle though not without its flaws. This team will need to be aware of the wealth of schools we go against in the future. If they are rich, then it is more likely to see rarer vehicles being used against us. However, it must be kept in mind that just because a vehicle is rare, or is a prototype, does not mean it is good.__"_

All the information contained is important. But there is some pages of the playbook that is absolutely crucial to everything. Pages dedicated to a particular tankery athlete. Miho Nishizumi. Her work in tankery formed the foundation of all the tactics and strategy Valarie has crafted.

"Busy reading?" Emma said.

Her sudden voice startled Valarie. "Oh! Ah, just reviewing."

"You've put a whole lotta work in that thing. And it's not even done. You're gonna need another binder or two."

"Heh. Looks like it. Gonna be a series in no time at all."

Emma sat down beside her and instinctively, the two held hands.

"So, how do you feel about the upcoming match?" Emma asked her.

"Nervous, of course. And I'm aware that for most, if not all people, that they don't have much faith in the US doing well at all. They do have history to back up their claims."

"Sure. But this team has overcome some huge obstacles. I don't wanna go into things thinking we can win for sure, but, I think we got a more than decent shot here."

"I feel kinda the same way. But the thing is that the internationals are a different league. I can read everything about it but the only way to get a proper understanding of things is to actually do it."

"Well, as you always say, the only thing you expect from us is our best."

Valarie grinned from ear to ear as her cheeks were blushed a deep red. "Always."

As the young couple spent some quality time together, at the rear of the T-44, Heather and Ashley were together, with Ashley having a tablet in her hand.

"Doing some research, it's actually super good that we have these tablets. At this level of competition, pretty much every team is using them. So not having tablets would really hurt us." Ashley informed.

"Interesting," Heather mused. "Good thing Valarie has a rich step-sister."

"Oh yeah, she definitely lucked out in the secret family department."

Ashley interacted with the tablet for several moments, inspecting every feature it had. "Madison sure did spare no expense. There's a lot of good features built in here...but there is so much more room for potential."

"How so?"

"The software in this tablet is restricted. You can't use it to its full potential. Unless, of course, I do some tampering."

"...Tampering?" Heather questioned, eyes narrowing.

"If I jailbreak the tablet, it can open a whole new area of use."

"Is this an okay thing to do? It sounds iffy."

"What Apple doesn't know...won't hurt them."

Ashley turned toward the turret and got Valarie's attention.

"Hey! Mind if I have this tablet for the night?"

"Um, why?" Valarie asked.

"So I can make it better."

Keenly aware of Ashley's experience with technology, she nodded. "Sure thing. It better control the Mars rovers when I get it back."

"Cool, thanks!"

The tankery meeting progressed normally. At it's conclusion, the team were dismissed. Emma and Valarie were walking together back home when Emma then received a text on her phone from Madison.

_"_ _Ready and waiting ;)"_

Emma's eagerness growing by the second, she tried her hardest not to immediately go into a sprint to get home as soon as possible. After what seemed like a walk that lasted a lifetime, they were in the apartment complex and were heading to their unit. Right before they walked through the door, Emma made sure that she was the first one to the door. Her behavior was something that Valarie noted.

"You're acting a bit weird. Is everything okay?" she inquired.

"Everything is a-okay." Emma responded. The expression on her face hid most of her excitement.

Fetching the keys, Emma opened the door and the pair entered. Inside, Valarie was surprised to find Madison here, along with a multitude of bags on the floor.

"Woah! What's all this?" Valarie questioned, looking at everything.

"Just something from me to you." Madison explained.

"This is...all for me?" Valarie said, with clear amazement in her voice.

"MmmHmm." hummed Madison. She gestured toward the bags. "Well, what are you waiting for? Dive right in."

Sheer joy appeared on Valarie's face as she went for the nearest bag. Getting on its contents revealed to be a white colored dress with floral decorations. Its simplicity enamored her.

"God. It's beautiful." She set it aside and opened another bag. Inside was a pair of fine black denim jeans. "Oh, this...this is great!"

More bags were opened and it each thing within was as if it was tailored just for her.

"Jeez, all of this is...perfect! How did you know what I love?"

"Well, I had some great help." Madison remarked.

Turning toward Emma, Valarie saw her have a huge smile. "When you know someone for nearly ten years, you get to know what they like." Emma told her.

"Wow...just wow. I'm..speechless."

"We're not done yet." Madison informed. She went to another room and returned with a small bag and handed it to her. Valarie opened it and found a DVD case with no cover. She had a perplexed look.

"Huh. It's blank." Opening the case, and she saw the disc. It too was blank. "What movie is this?"

"One you seen before." Madison said. She pointed toward the TV in the room, where it had a DVD player beneath. Now totally captivated, Valarie inserted the disc in the player and they all waited for a few moments as everything warmed up.

"I'm curious about this one too," Emma admitted. "I was just helping her with your clothes."

Soon, the TV screen came alive and began playing scenes of old tankery matches. Valarie was genuinely speechless. This was something she had seen before. Countless times before. She got close to the TV and knelled in front of it, in total disbelief of what she was seeing. This was her old VHS tankery tapes, its deterioration expunged, and sound and visual quality in pristine condition. What made her fall in love with tankery in the first place, at its absolute best.

"How...how did you do this?" Valarie asked. She was starting to choke up.

"A few days ago when I was here, I happened to come across your VHS tapes. Learning what they were hatched the idea. I figured that after all these years they would've degraded and since the school offers film making as both an elective and a major, we have the means to digitize and clear up your tapes. I took them to some friends who knew their stuff, few days later, and here I have a DVD."

Valarie made no attempt to stop tears flowing down her cheeks.

"This means...so much to me. Thank you. Thank you so much."

Emma and Madison went up to Valarie and gave her a warm, affectionate hug. Once it came to an end, Valarie went back to watching TV.

"God. She's gonna watch that all through the night. I know how long her tapes are." Emma remarked.

_July 11th_

"God, I feel like I'm going to vomit."

"Morning sickness or because of the appointment?" Redwood asked.

"Ugh. Both I think." Buchanan responded.

She took multiple deep breaths and regained some sense of comfort. "Alright. Let's go. Can't wait forever."

The two drove to one of the ship's medical clinic. There, they checked in and sat in a waiting area. They weren't the only people here, as there was quite a few other expectant mothers.

"Look at them Martin, all of them are younger than me." Buchanan said in a whisper.

"Don't think about that, Gabby. It's not helpful at all." he responded, holding her hand tight.

After some ten minutes of waiting, they were called up. A nurse led them to a room and were told to wait a bit more for a doctor to see them. In the meantime, the nurse instructed Buchanan to lay on the examination chair to be ready. Buchanan complied and the couple didn't wait long for the doctor to arrive.

"Good morning," the doctor greeted them. "First ultrasound I reckon?"

They nodded.

"It's nothing to sweat about. We'll be done here in twenty minutes. Now, Miss Buchanan, I'm gonna have you to lift up your shirt to expose your stomach."

Buchanan did so. The doctor put one some gloves and applied a gel over her stomach, and then grabbed a little wand. The transducer.

"This gel is water-based. It helps makes the soundwaves from the transducer travel all nice like."

The doctor placed the transducer on Buchanan and moved it around. Occasionally, the doctor would ask Buchanan to move slightly or hold her breath as she worked. The computer screen showed black-and-white images on what was happening within.

"Alright, alright, where's that bun in the oven..." the doctor muttered. "Ahh, here we are!"

There on the screen was their child, whose features was just becoming to look familiar. A head, legs, and arms could be seen, though at just six weeks into pregnancy, there is still a long way to go. Nonetheless, seeing their child with their own eyes brought them immense amount of joy.

"Oh. My. God. There's our kid...our...kid." Buchanan remarked nearly breathless. She had to repeat herself as she couldn't quite believe that what she wanted for ages was actually happening.

"Man, he's looking great." Redwood remarked. "Or...she?"

"It's a bit too early to determine the gender." The doctor informed. She examined the screen closely. "Good...good. Fetus is indeed attached to the uterus, so no ectopic pregnancy for you. It attached high in the uterine wall, which is a great thing. No abnormal growths. Everything is looking good. Though Miss Buchanan, because of your age, I would like you to visit more than what's typical. I want to monitor every stage of your pregnancy and intervene when needed."

"Oh, for sure." Buchanan responded.

"Oh, and another aspect of late-age pregnancy to be aware of is that older women are more likely to have a c-section rather than the usual birth."

"I am more than willing to be cut up to have this baby."

"I admire your willingness. But it's still only a possibility." The doctor resumed working, with Redwood and Buchanan were gushing over what they have seen.

"This has gone better than I could ever imagine," Buchanan told him. "All my worries...just gone."

"A load off our shoulders, that's for damn sure."

Then, they heard the doctor gasp. Immediately, they turned toward her. Bracing for whatever she was going to tell them.

"I can't believe I missed this!" she remarked. Realizing that her gasp has alarmed her patients, she shot them a comforting smile and shared what she found. "Miss Buchanan, it appears that you have two buns baking in your oven!"

"Two...buns?" Buchanan repeated confused. She thought about what was just said to her only for a moment when it dawned on her. Her eyes widened to their greatest extent. She looked toward Redwood, who too was wide-eyed. The shock between them was powerful. Neither of them could speak for a few moments. Soon, though, could they muster out one word.

"TWINS?!" exclaimed both. Voices filled with a blend of shock and joy. This was the greatest day of their lives thus far.

_July 15th_

It has been several days and things have progressed without much activity. Everyone onboard the ship were enjoying the summer docked in Spain. For today, however, the Mojave Rose team were starting to get busy. At midday, most of the team were at the garage. The commanders of the team were on the second floor attending a meeting. It was here that Valarie was sharing their strategy against the Italian team in their forthcoming match. As every settled in into their chairs, Valarie got straight to it.

"The battlefield, compared to all the other places we've fought, will be the most flat environment we'll be in. There's not much in terms of hills to get on the top of to hold it down. There is, however, depressions in the ground throughout the area so there are ample opportunity to go hull down. Now, look here," Valarie said, using a long stick to point out the forested area of the map. "The forest is key. I fully believe whoever holds it has the advantage. It is the best, if not only, area to properly hide our tanks. What more, within this forest, is an observation deck called...um...Ray, you say it."

"Mirado del Monte El Raso." Ray said with perfect pronunciation.

"Thank you kindly. Now, this deck holds a commanding view of the area. The plan is to from the start of the match, we make a beeline for this deck and form a perimeter around it. We'll have two people sent up there with binoculars to act as spotters. They'll see the enemy far before we will."

The commanders in the room nodded as the plan sat well with them.

"So, what do we know about the team we're going against?" Natalie then asked.

"They are not the richest school in Italy, yet nor at they the poorest. We can expect some powerful tanks from them. Such as this one," Valarie pressed a switcher and the projector then showed an image of a tank destroyer. "This is an Semovente 105/25. This is an Italian tank destroyer from WWII armed with a 105mm cannon. There's this perception that Italian tanks from the war aren't all that great. This one, though, we ought to be careful. Palatine Academy have them and in numbers."

"What about how they fight?" Robin asked.

"From some videos of their previous matches, they seem to fight normally for the most part. That is until their captain orders them to fight in waves at some point in battles. I don't really understand that one."

"Waves huh?" Cassidy. "Suits us. Better to beat them a few at a time than all at once."

"Well, we'll see. They wouldn't be using this waves tactic if it never worked in their favor before."

With that, the commanders meeting came to a close. Everyone left the room to return to their crews, save for Valarie. She tidied things up in the conference room and took a moment to look out the window. It provided a grand view of the ship, of all the buildings packed on the surface. A collection of sea birds flew across the sky, one holding a fish in its mouth, with the others trying in vain to snatch it from its beak. Here, she reflected on what was coming. The first match of the internationals. She felt that the stakes here was high...perhaps too high for a first match. And what more, she has no idea what is going to transpire. Anything could happen, good, bad, and in between. She is certain on one thing, however.

She is going to get a bit more gray hair.


	50. Mojave Rose v. Palatine Academy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The International Tankery Tournament has begun for Mojave Rose out in the country of Spain. Here, they face off a against a team that blends the ancient past with modern tanks.

_Wednesday, July 24th 2013_

Just a little over one month after the conclusion of American nationals, the day had arrived. All the preparations and anticipation leading to here. The Mojave Rose tankery team first outing in the world tournament in the Spanish country. Though, the official start of the match was still some hours away. The team was still on the ship, doing one final piece of preparation. It was around six in the morning, sun barely up, as if it would matter as the sky was in complete overcast. The dawn was cool, but everyone could feel that it was warming by the hour. The team's tanks have already been shipped to their starting area the night before, so what everyone was really doing was ensuring that all their personal equipment were on hand and ready to go.

"I'm all set," Ashley informed. "I almost miss being shot at. Really."

"Let's see you say that again later today." Valarie remarked.

The team were at the garage, but only briefly. After their business there had come to and end. everyone disembarked the ship and congregated at the docks below. All they had to do now was to wait for a bus to come and shuttle them to where the match will take place. Among them was Alice and Madison. Not only were they going to watch the tournament kick off, but they had some business to attend to over there. For, as part of the tradition of international tankery, it was expected that the opposing teams set up tents and trailers to provide luxurious amenities for the various spectators to enjoy. Most important of all, however, was the food service as this was where the majority of the cultural exchange take place. As Valarie has been told before, nothing better advertises a culture than food.

"So, you've really taken an interest in this pre-match stuff?" Valarie questioned.

"Oh absolutely!" Madison responded with vigor. "It's the sort of things I live for."

"What do you have in store?"

"Breakfast. All kinds of breakfast. Eggs, pancakes, waffles, toast, muffins, bagels, ham, bacon, hashbrowns, steak, and every kind of coffee under the sun."

Valarie hummed with pleasure. "Mmm, I'm hungry already."

Not longer after, a bus arrived and the team piled in. Once the door closed and everyone got settled in, they were off. Their day had begun.

_Later_

The spectator's area was quite different than how it was done back in the United States. For one, it was much bigger with tents and trailers going on seemingly going as far as the eye can see. The crowds were immense, the noise they generated akin to a stadium, and it was barely eight in the morning. There was also an increased media attention. Quite a few reporters were scattered about looking to see what information that can gather. Overhead, there were occasional fly-by of helicopters. These aircraft were mounted with cameras that would broadcast the match around the world. Off the bus, the Mojave Rose tankery team were just now entering the area. With them in their uniforms, attention was already being sent their way. Before they walked any further, Buchanan walked briskly to get in front of them to share a few words.

"Before I set you all loose to explore every inch of this place, I want all of you to pay special attention to the announcement systems. The last thing anyone of you want to do is to be _late_. Another thing..." she began but stopped. She gripped her stomach as it had began to discomfort her for a moment before subsiding. "Ah. Excuse me. Anyway, as I was saying, I just wanted to say that I'm really...really proud of what you all have done. Now get outta here before I start crying."

The team dissolved into the crowd, eager to see what this place has to offer. Ray and Natalie were off to one area in particular. One that Ray was looking forward to for the past few days.

"Since we're facing off against an Italian team, they must some good stuff. Oh man, I hope they're serving margherita pizza. That is just a classic dish. Oh! I also hope they have some risotto that has a healthy dose of garlic seasoning."

An aroma then entered his nose and his eyes widened. "THEY. HAVE. RISOTTO."

Grabbing a stunned Natalie by her hand, he led her to the food stands in a near sprint. Elsewhere, the T-44 crew were together, exploring the area at a more leisurely pace. They were deciding what to do to kill time before the match.

"How about we find a coffee place, order some drinks, and chill for a bit?" Emma suggested.

"Oh yes, I like that." Valarie said with enthusiasm.

"WaitWaitWait...hold on. Are we not gonna talk about what _just_ happened?" Ashley said to them.

Her words caused the girls to halt and turn toward her.

"What do you mean?" Heather inquired.

"Do not tell me that I was the only one who noticed?" Ashley said.

All of them drew blanks. Ashley was amazed, speechless for a moment. She sighed and let them in the know.

"Miss Buchanan is pregnant."

The three girls let out a gasp.

"How can know that?" Heather asked her.

"I have three aunts who visit my house a lot, all of whom got pregnant. I learned to understand all the signs. Miss Buchanan is knocked up. I'm proud of her," Ashley said with a grin. "Means that she is getting some action."

"...Action?" Valarie repeated, puzzled. The euphemism was totally lost on her.

"And ladies," Ashley continued. "We all know who the father is."

Everyone save for Ashley entered into a blush.

"Oh yeah...it's the only answer that makes sense." Emma remarked.

Ashley looked at Valarie, who was the reddest of them all. She decided to have some fun with her. "Val, I just wanna know. You do realize that they are no storks involved, yeah?"

Valarie was taken aback as if she was insulted. "Um...yes? I do? Do you really think I don't know anything about pregnancy? We all took that health class that's required for graduation."

"The entire time you had that class, your face was constantly red," Emma recalled. "It was pretty funny. Oh, there was that pregnancy documentary. Seeing your reaction to that was priceless."

"Hey, the people who made that documentary could've easily used computer graphics to show how a baby was born and that would've gotten the point across. But they just had to use live video. I seen more that I ever wanted."

"But that was the best part!" Ashley interjected.

Valarie closed her eyes and drew in a breath. "Let's just move from this, yeah? Let's get some coffee. I went from wanting it to needing it."

* * *

"Oh, ladies, this is going great. Simply excellent." Madison complimented.

At this area of the spectator's area was where Catalina set up their cultural exchange tents and trailers. She was one serving food to the hungry match spectators.

"Steak and eggs?" one spectator remarked. "I expect nothing less from you Americans! I'll take a plate, please!"

In the back, Alice and Madison were together, soaking everything in. They felt a sense of pride in what they were doing.

"I would've never expected that this aspect of tankery would be something I liked. This cultural exchange thing is fantastic. Not only is it pretty fun, but imagine all the benefits for the school." Alice commented.

"I know, right?" Madison replied. "Do you see all the teenagers we're serving? Anyone one of them could potentially be future students. First impressions are key. And what more, our coffee is by far the winner. Soon, we'll have people coming to these matches just to get another cup."

With grins, the two girls each grabbed a cup of coffee, and clinked and enjoyed them. As they were drinking, Madison looked off in no direction in particular when she then saw something that caused her to choke on her coffee.

"Son...son of a bitch! I just saw Juliana."

"What? Are you sure?"

"She's impossible to forget. That bitch."

"Why the hell is she here? And did she see you?"

"I don't have a clue why she's here, and I don't think she saw me. But I saw _that_ look on her face. She's plotting something. Something rotten."

"And here I was thinking that this day was going to be nice."

* * *

Lounging on some chairs were two girls dressed in uniforms. What they were wearing was a style of clothing from a long gone era of human history. Their uniforms were based on the Roman centurion, with their tunic and cape dyed in a deep red their most eye-catching pieces. One of them was wearing gold laurel leaves in her hair. These two girls were the leadership of Palatine Hill Academy's tankery team. The girl wearing the laurel leaves was the captain. Cesena Scutari.

"The sky is clearing up. The sun will be out and about once the match is underway." she noted.

"Yes," replied Labina Vecellio, co-captain of the team. "Perfect visibility is in store for everyone. Plus, it won't be terrible hot today, but pleasantly warm. All around, ideal weather."

Cesena nodded in response and stretched in her seat. Her hair was wavy and black, running past her shoulder. It shined brilliantly as the sun broke through the fleeing clouds. In the sky, she noticed a group of ravens flying off toward the rising sun. It brought a smile to her face.

"Ravens," Cesena remarked. "A good omen."

"We'll need more than good omens to win the upcoming battle. I have some reservations about this American team."

"Is that so? Are you not aware that the last time an American team, nay, any tankery team from the North and South American continents won the internationals was back in 1975?"

"I am well aware. Some of the girls on the team are fully expecting to achieve a quick victory. I set them straight, of course, but that mindset still remains."

Cesena went into a silent contemplation for several moments, bringing her hands to together. "What makes you have these worries?"

"The Americans are a coed team. That's throwing me off."

"Hmm. The fact that they have both girls and boys hasn't crossed my mind too much. What are your thoughts on it?"

"Hmm?"

"Males in tankery. Thoughts?"

Labina didn't immediately respond. She turned her gaze toward the ground to formulate a response, her black hair in a braid to keep it out of her eyes. "As long as males participate in tankery in good faith, then I think it's okay."

"That's a perspective that I agree with," Cesena responded. "You know, in all my years in the sport, forming relationships with various tankery captains throughout Europe, I've come to understand that in regards to male participation that the consensus is high skepticism. With that in mind, the American team has more things at stake."

"Explain."

"How the tankery world will react to male participation rests upon the performance of the American team in the tournament. If they do poorly, it'll just reinforce entrenched beliefs and the sport will remain female-dominated. If they perform well...then we can expect tankery to undergo radical changes."

"For the better?"

"I would like to think so. The Americans are fighting for more than a championship. And they don't even know it."

_10:30 AM_

At a designated area just outside the boundaries of the battlefield, two vehicles were arriving from opposing directions. One was a Humvee, sporting its iconic desert camouflage and attached to its roof was the stars and stripes, flapping in the wind. The other was a Lince armored car, an Italian scout car from WWII. Soon, these two vehicles parked several feet from each other and out exited their occupants. Out of the Humvee, was Valarie and Ray.

"Thank God you can drive." Valarie told him."

"No problem. And hey, it handles pretty good. Glad to finally find a use for this thing."

Another tradition in international tankery matches was that prior to the start of matches, the leadership of the opposing teams are to meet and exchange pleasantries. Essentially, be cordial. They walked toward the people who just got out of the Lince. Meeting Palatine at last. The four people approached each other. Cesena was the first to speak.

"Interesting. That is perhaps the most modern vehicle I've seen in these pre-match meet-ups." she said, referring to the Humvee.

Valarie and Ray were somehow stunned that Cesena could speak English. But thinking about it more, why wouldn't she?

"Um, yes," Valarie replied. "It was a gift from an army base that's near our school."

"Why, how generous. Now, let's get the business out of the way. My name is Cesena Scutari, captain of the tankery of Accademia Palatina per Ragazze"

_"So that's how you pronounce it..."_ Valarie thought.

"And this is my ever-capable, ever-reliable, co-captain, Labina Veceillo." Cesena continued.

"I'm Valarie Woodlin, captain of Mojave Rose High School's tankery team. And Ray Rosario is my co-captain."

The Italians eyed Ray up. It creeped him out a little.

"You're tall. I thought it was Texas where things were bigger." Labina joked.

"Ha. Yeah, I'm a big guy and I got a big tank to match. Maybe you'll get to see it _real_ soon."

This drew a sharp laugh from Cesena. "Ohhh, I already like you. But we too have some big guns that you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end. Maybe you'll get to see them _real_ soon.

"From the research we've done on you, we understand that matches with you are entertaining. Let's hope that it translates well to the world stage. I hate boring matches." Labina noted."

"I don't do boring." Valarie assured.

With nods, the group departed back to their respective vehicles and began driving back to their teams. In the Humvee, Valarie and Ray were reflecting on the encounter they just had.

"That was nice. No hostility at all." Valarie remarked.

"Oh man, am I glad there is no hostility." Ray said with intense relief.

_10:55 AM_

The air was filled with the noise of idling engines. The Mojave Rose tankery team were at their starting area in an open field, awaiting the final minutes before the match would begin in earnest. During this time, Valarie repeatedly checked that the team had all of their equipment.

"Okay...we're as ready as we'll ever be." she muttered to herself.

By now the skies were clear and the sun was bright. Valarie was nervous in the hours leading up to the match, but now in her tank, in her element, this nervousness subsided and was replaced with a cool, calm mind. She got on the radio.

"Just to remind you all, our objective is to seize the observation deck in the forest. Spotters, you know who you are. Once the perimeter is established, get out of your vehicle and head straight up there. Remember your radio and binoculars, and above all, be safe."

The internationals were formatted identically to the American nationals. Every match was a flag match, with the exception of the world finals, were it was annihilation. On this occasion, the Jumbo was Mojave Rose's flag tank. Miles away from their position was where Palatine Academy was situated. They too were waiting, all there tanks neatly formed in multiple lines. Cesena stood on top a Cruiser Mark VIII Challenger, a British tank based on the Cromwell. It was armed with the ever-powerful quick-firing 17-pounder gun. She was giving a speech to her team. Her speeches were something that they always looked forward to as they were _fun_ to listen to.

"I am known as something of a philosopher. Some ask me 'Why are we here?' and 'What are we meant to do on this Earth?'. The answers are often very complex. But fret not, for today, I have the answer! We are here to fight the Americans and send them back to the New World! Daughters of Mars, mount your chariots and prepare for battle!"

The hour was upon them. Over at Mojave Rose's location, the official rose her starting gun high in the air and fired. With that signal, Valarie issued her first order of the world tournament. "Panzer Vor!"

The noise in the area went from idle engines to the rancorous roar of unleashed horsepower, along with the mesmerizing clatter of the tracks. The team formed in the standard V-formation with the T-44, of course, forming the tip. Their objective was several miles away with the land between it and them open country of expansive fields with only the odd depression in the ground offering a modicum of cover. There was an anxiety that existed among some portions of the team that the enemy would take advantage of the lack of cover and launch an ambush. This emotion was short lived as the push into the forest was largely uneventful. Tress soon came into view and it was here that Valarie ordered all machines to come to a halt. She peaked out of her hatch to take stock of the situation. With her binoculars, she trained them at various spots ahead of them. The ground was not disturbed, telling her that Palatine had not yet come across this area.

"Hmm," Valarie mused. "I bet they have the same idea that we do, securing the observation deck and all. The tactical advantage is obvious."

The order was given to resume their drive and soon the team entered the forest. Here, the team reduced their speed to not only avoid a tree giving them a bad day but to be also be ready to react effectively should they encounter the enemy. Progress was slow and steady, all the trees providing welcome cover and shade. All the tanks that had turrets were rotating them from side to side repeatedly, scanning the environment for potential threats. Sage with her binoculars managed to spot the base of the observation deck from two miles out.

"There it is!" she exclaimed over the radio. Looking to her right, she then saw numerous figures fast approaching. Her heart skipped a beat. "We got contact at our five o'clock! Here we go!"

The incoming vehicles were a group of five Panther Ausf. Ds, serving as Palatine's vanguard. Valarie instantly began to issue out a list of orders.

"Everyone! Break formation and form a line. _Sierra, _slow to a crawl and locate cover. _Sonora_, retreat behind_ Jackalope_. I'll be damned to let you get sniped in our first match."

Without delay, the team complied by the letter and formed a firing line. In this line, the team fired an intense volley toward the enemy Panthers, yet they had anticipated such a move and were already making their retreat, firing smoke grenades to cover their movement. Once the smoke settled, they were gone, and all the team could see were craters of the ground they had just obliterated. Their location was now known though Valarie was not at all concerned. Anyone with enough tactical sense could've easily reasoned that they would've gone here. The plan was to proceed as normal. The team continued their advance toward their objective and right after their last engagement, they were thrown into another. Several Semovente 105 tank destroyers were hidden around the observation deck. They fired upon the first targets they spotted, the Super Pershing, IS-3, and T-44. These rounds merely ricocheted off the steel producing that surreal sound as they did. As Mojave Rose approached, the Semoventes made a hasty retreat, yielding the area to them.

"Easy! These guys ain't nothing!" Cassidy boasted. The AMR rushed ahead so that they would be the first tank to arrive at the observation deck. "We're first, no one else can claim it 'cause we did it first!"

The rest of the team joined them and promptly formed a perimeter around the observation deck. Near its base was where the SU-14 was positioned where it would provide close-range artillery support. Once everyone was situated, Valarie got out of her tank and stood on top the turret, looking into the now quiet forest. Emma too got out to join her.

"What's up?"

"I've go this feeling..." Valarie started but trailed off.

"A feeling? Are you sick?"

"No, a different kind of feeling. Like this was supposed to happen."

"Huh?" Emma remarked with puzzlement.

"That tank destroyer ambush doesn't sit right with me. All the targets and they decide this shoot the tanks with the most armor protection? I'm not buying it. They wanted us to have this position an acted like they tried to fight for it."

"Why would they do that?"

'I don't know. But whatever it is, we'll be ready." Valarie reached for her radio. "_Sierra_, now is your time."

"Copy that!" Jacqueline responded. In the artillery vehicle, she looked to Amber and Raven. "Alright you two. You know what to do."

The sisters nodded, grabbed their gear, and hopped out of the SU-14. Outside, they raced up the stairs of the observation deck and reached the top in no time, though they were panting and sweating a bit. If they had to guess, they were about one hundred meters off the ground and had a commanding view of the surrounding area. Amber and Raven represented half of the firepower of the SU-14 as they were a gunner and loader respectively. Normally, the artillery would have two gunners and loaders, but for this match, Valarie reasoned that the SU-14 having a reduction in its fighting capability in exchange for two people having a bird's eye view of the battlefield is a worthy trade. Each girl posted up at opposite sides of the deck so that they'd see anything heading their way.

"What exactly as we suppose to, ah, spot?" Raven questioned.

"Engine exhaust, trees moving 'cause they got bumped into them, anything that looks weird." Raven told her.

Raven and Amber, along with the SU-14's remaining gunner and loader, Gwendolyn and Abby, are all sisters, quadruplets born on the same day. Their faces were indistinguishable, though by paying close attention, one could tell them apart. Though they all had blonde hair with hazel colored eyes, each girl had done their hair differently. Raven had her hair brushed all the way to her right, flowing a bit curly. Amber had her hair worn short, just touching her shoulders, and dyed a platinum blonde. With all their gear at the ready, Amber got on the portable radio they brought.

"_Oasis_, we are all set. Nothing to report. All peaceful up here."

"Understood Overwatch," Valarie responded. "Oh, and you're Overwatch now."

Back at the bottom, Valarie took a look at her tablet. She had been scrutinizing it ever since she got it back from Ashley, but from what she could see, things don't look too much different.

"What did you do to this thing again?" she asked Ashley.

"Just made it do a lot more than what the manufacturer intended. I didn't install anything fun though...not yet anyway."

"Okay..."

Valarie returned her attention to her tablet. On the screen, she saw the locations of every machine on the team, thanks to the GPS devices mounted on them. She found it a bit satisfying to see the blue blips on screen form a circle. Additionally, she ordered that the team deploy their camouflage nets for the first time. With them deployed, they were now dug in.

"So, we're gonna wait for them to make a move?" Emma asked.

Valarie nodded. "Let's see what game they're playing. I got a feeling they won't keep us waiting for long.

* * *

A pack of Semovente 105s returned to the main Palatine force, forming up near Cesena.

"The Americans hold the tower," one of the commanders reported. "They've set up a defensive perimeter around it.

The news sparked a grin on Cesena's face. "Ooh yes, I was hoping that they'd do that. I_ love_ a good siege."

"Mmm, reminds me of the Battle of Alesia." Labina remarked.

"Precisely!" Cesena responded with glee. "And we all know who won that fight." She grabbed the radio. "We advance on the forest, posthaste!"

Palatine Academy drove on. With the knowledge that Mojave Rose was deep within the forest, Palatine moved without fear and with cheer as there was zero risk of an ambush. Within the hour, Palatine was at the edge of the forest and here they stopped. Cesena got out of her tank and once again stood on top of its turret with radio in hand.

"The enemy lie within the trees, huddling around a tower. They must not know who we are as not only do we love being on the attack, but assaulting fortified positions are our specialty!"

The team responded with a loud, eager cheer. Cesena than rose her hand high in the air. "Hastati! Initiate the assault!"

One-third of Palatine's forces broke off from the main group and disappeared into the forest, charging into battle.

* * *

It was all quiet on the front for Mojave Rose. Everyone on the team were exercising the utmost vigilance, though the calm was getting to them. There was an anxiety among them but they tempered it the best they could. By now, everyone was aware of the effects of chewing gum had on soothing one's nerve. In addition to that, other people had their own ways to stave of the anxiety. In the ACIV, the crew were somewhat perplexed over the actions of their commander.

"Is this...is this the right time to do make-up?" Alexa asked, the gunner of the tank.

"Why not? It's a dull moment, no harm here. Don't you guys worry, I'm keep an eye out...now...how's my foundation?"

Over in the VK, Marielle was pouting. "I should've brought cards or something..."

Up in the observation deck, Amber and Raven maintained their lookout.

"If I cared about bird watching, I'd be having fun up here." Amber said with a hint of disdain.

"Just keep reminding yourself that we're doing an important job and—woah! Hold on now!" Raven stopped mid-sentence and trained her vision on an anomaly she spotted. Multiple anomalies. From her view, she saw various smoke clouds, thick and gray. Seconds later, another collection of these clouds manifested in front of the old ones, then again, and once more. She then laid eyes upon glimpses of steel reflecting the sun back at her. "Contact!" she yelled, racing back to the radio. "_Oasis_! Enemy tanks inbound from the south-west!"

The mood had utterly changed with everyone now hyper-focused. The south-west section of the perimeter included the SU-100, Cromwell, VK, and T-44. Guns were loaded and waiting. From her position, Valarie with her binoculars could see the incoming attack. What she saw astounded her as it was a style of attack that she has never seen before. This segment of Palatine's forces were composed of medium tanks; Panzer III Ausf. Ls, early model T-34s, Crusaders, with some Panther Ausf. Ds to provide heavy fire support. Each commander of these incoming tanks were out of their hatch, firing smoke grenades from their personal grenade launchers ahead of their advance. This was so that their main cannons will have an armor-piercing round ready to fire in the breech. Valarie watched as these commanders fired their grenades and with great skill and speed, reloaded their launchers to fire another as if they were robots.

"South-west tanks, hold your fire. Hold your fire!

Their camo nets made their difficult to spot from afar, but it was closing face. Before she knew it, the ground around them got shelled, throwing pieces of dirt up in the air an landing on their tanks. By now, the smoke from this attack was concentrated and Palatine was within, using is as cover. They fired from their smoke screen, which was inaccurate but they were landing closer to Mojave Rose's tanks than Valarie ever expected, with some shells actually hitting but bouncing off. Not wanting to just take it, she issued the order to return fire. The tanks in this section unleashed rounds into Palatine, though it was impossible to ascertain their effectiveness. This firefight lasted just a few minutes, with Palatine continued to fire their grenades to maintain their smokescreen. Then, the sound of cannon fire then ceased from the smoke and the chaos of the fight dissipated. Once the smoke went away, the answer why was revealed. Palatine had withdrawn. This action increased Valarie's intrigue on the whole situation.

"Hmm, no casualties on either side. Was this just a failed attack or were they probing our defenses?

"If anything, they made us waste our ammo." Ashley noted. "Things keep going like this and these racks will be empty."

With Ashley's word in mind, Valarie rested in her position to think about her strategy.

"Alright everyone," she said over the radio. "All tanks forming the perimeter are to drive clockwise. Stop when I say so."

The team moved as order and drove for half a minute before Valarie issued a stop.

"Now, with all our positions different, when they attack, they'll face different tanks. That'll throw them off."

* * *

Palatine's Hastati regrouped with the main force after their engagement in the forest. One of the Panzer III commanders approached Cesena to give their report.

"We executed out attack without error nor losses. Our smokescreen acted like a shield."

"Excellent, excellent!" Cesena remarked, smile huge on her face. "Well done. Now rest."

The Hastati drove off to the rear of the team and took a break in an open field.

"The battle goes in our favor," Cesena told Labina. "Several more attacks and the Americans will run out of ammo. At that point, we will descend upon them like carrion birds, and we shall feast."

As Cesena fantasized being a vulture, she was brought back to reality when the low droning sound of airplane engines were heard off in the distance, irking her greatly.

"What? A supply drop already? Damn it all. The Americans _cannot_ be allowed to be resupplied. They won't send all their tanks to go for it, but some of them. Labina, choose some tanks to beat them to it. Seize the supplies before the Americans do!"

* * *

_"Captains, heed your tablet. Refer to the diamond marker on your screen. Supplies have been dropped at the designated location. Keep an eye out for an orange flare."_

The voice that came from the radio startled Valarie. Recovering quickly, she pondered the message and decided that it'll be worth the risk. Plus, it'll be a great learning experience.

"_Nomad,_ _Mirage_, _Skink_. Race for those supplies and collect as much as you can."

The commanders of the fastest vehicles on the team accepted the task with great enthusiasm, though it's not like they had a choice in the matter anyway.

"Alright, try to keep up ladies!" Cassidy boasted. Not even a second later did the Puma fly past her at light speed. "Oh," she said, deflated "I guess this tank isn't as fast as I thought."

"Welcome to the club." Mia said with a laugh.

Regardless, the Stuart and AMR were quick enough to be reasonably close to the Puma. With their speed, they were out of the forest within several minutes and back in the open country. Here, they could really get quick and reached their max speed. The Puma became the de facto leader of this supply run, solely because they were the fastest. Referring to her tablet frequently, Aurora led them toward the location of the supply drop. In time, they would catch sight of the smoke of an orange flare over the horizon.

"That has to be it, we're almost there!" Aurora shared.

The speedsters arrived at the supplies, which happened to land in a depression in the ground. They came to a stop close to it and the commanders of the machine hopped out to see what they've got. It was a collection of crates along with some fuel cans mixed in. Mia approached one of the crates and peaked inside, finding that it was filled with shells.

"Awesome!"

Aurora went to another and saw that it was filled with sweets. Looks like the supplies were more than just fuel and ammo.

"Oh, we definitely_ need_ the sweets. They're...ah...rations you see."

The rest of the crew members got out of their vehicles and joined their commanders at the supply drop, excitedly going through all the goods. All save for Cassidy who was still with her tank.

"Hey guys," she said no one heard her. "Hey!" she repeated but nothing still. Agitated, she got loud. "HEY!"

They all turned toward her.

"What?" Mia asked, tearing open a bag of cookies.

"Now, I know that my brother and I are very new and that this is our first ever match, but, ah, aren't these supplies announced to both teams along with their location?"

Everyone near the crates went white.

"Shit," Aurora uttered. She ran back to the Puma and climbed upon it, looking around frantically with her binoculars. To her fright, she spotted four incoming tanks. "Fuck," she jumped down to the ground and screamed at everyone, "They're coming!

Everyone entered into a panic, though Mia managed to think up a plan in a hurry.

"Guys, get rope and chains to tie down the supplies on the Puma. It'll make it back to the team faster than any of us."

Quickly and frantically, they grabbed crates and canisters and fastened them on the hull of the Puma, which now looked like it had growths. As the sounds of the enemy's engines grew louder, they moved faster than ever.

"Okay, okay, that's enough. That's most of it. Now let's get the hell outta here!" Aurora exclaimed.

Everyone remounted their vehicles and sped off. The hostile Panzer IIIs stopped at the supplies, except for one, who embarked on a pursuit.

"We got a stalker here!" Mia informed

The Panzer III Ausf. L opened fire on the move, and with the quick-firing nature of its 50mm gun, shots were raining down upon them. The Puma, despite the extra weight, accelerated ahead of them all and was soon out of sight. The same can't be said for the Stuart and AMR.

"All they need is one hit, one lucky damn hit!" Mia complained bitterly.

The two remaining tanks swerved from side to side to avoid the incoming shells. In this situation, Cassidy got to thinking. The longer this pursuit lasts, the more likely is the Panzer III going to get a lucky shot. So why let them have that chance? The AMR entered into an abrupt U-turn.

"Um, what are you doing _Skink_?" Mia questioned, bewildered.

"Something fun and annoying. Well, annoying for them." answered Cassidy.

The AMR was now charging the Panzer III, whose brazen attack caused the gunner of the German tank to hesitate, providing ample time for the AMR to get up close and personal and get on the Panzer III's side. They were mere inches apart. The gun of the Panzer III rotated and tried to aim at the AMR but it was too tall and couldn't get their gun to bare. The AMR then started to drive around in circles, with the Panzer III's turret hopelessly trying to catch them. Cassidy was out of her hatch and could not resist taunting them.

"Mama mia! You can't-a hit me! I'm-a too fast! Slippery like spaghetti!"

From the interior of the Panzer III, Cassidy could hear the crew speaking frenzied Italian. She knew nothing of the language, but from the tone of their voices, knew that they were _furious_. Their misery brought her unending joy and she was laughing hysterically. Nathan was enjoying this too but had other matters on his mind.

"Hey Cass, mind if we wrap things up? Those other tanks could jump on us at any time."

Cassidy regained her composure. "Yeah, yeah, good thinking. Bring me to their rear, will ya?"

The little AMR maneuvered behind the Panzer III. Cassidy got on the gun and with ease loaded a shell. As the range was point-blank, aiming was just a suggestion. She squeezed the trigger and sent a 25mm round to where the sun doesn't shine. Cassidy laughed manically as hey withdrew from the now immobilized Panzer III. As they got distance between them, she looked back at the tank. She saw that the commander of the Panzer III was out of her hatch, hair a mess, and staring daggers right at Cassidy. She then rose her hand and extended her middle finger, with Cassidy more than happy to return the gesture.

"Oh my god," she remarked with the utmost glee. "This tankery stuff is funner than I thought!"

The AMR's return to the team was peaceful. Once there, Cassidy them of the events that had just transpired.

"Yeah, we took one down. It was tough, real tough. Nathan almost cried because he thought we were gonna get shot. But we didn't! After the intense duel, we shut down that Panzer whatever."

Cassidy's account of what happened might has some minor embellishment. But, what was important was that the AMR eliminated a Panzer III.

"Nice! That's one down. And you guys got a good chunk of the supplies. Great stuff." Valarie told her.

With their spoils firmly in their grasp, the supplies were sent to those that needed them and the sweets were shared and enjoyed by all.

* * *

"Utterly unbelievable!" Cesena cried out. "Not only has the Americans get most of the supplies, but you also suffered casualties?! Explain yourselves!"

One of the Panzer III commanders sheepishly stepped forward.

"They sent their light tanks to the cache. One of them was a Puma. Once they strapped the supplies to that thing, there was no chance of us catching it. And then, there was the AMR. The maniac in command of that thing charged Priscilla, freaking her out. How could she expect such an attack from that little thing?"

Cesena closed her eyes as she heard their excuses.

"Nonetheless, you've failed your mission and the supplies you did retrieve were meager," she told them. "I condemn you all to crucifixion."

"By 'crucifixion', she means that all of you will have to wear a costume of Cesena's choosing in front of the school for a week. The burning shame you will feel will be akin to being hung on a cross." Labina elaborated

The commanders dropped to their knees.

"No...no! Anything but that! Please, have mercy!"

"I've made my judgment. Now return to your tanks and await further orders." Cesena told them.

The commanders got up from the ground and quickly made their departure.

"It's clear that an escalation is in order," Cesena decided. She reached for the radio. "Principes! Make Ready for combat!"

* * *

Valarie decided to make a small change at the team's defensive area. Instead of having the T-44 as part of the perimeter, she made it so that her tank was stationed near the observation tower. In the event of an incoming attack, she would join the section that was receiving fire to assist them. It has been some since Palatine's last assault on their position. It was obvious to everyone that another was coming, it was just the 'when' that made them wonder.

"Their strategy fascinates me. Attacking in waves? Never seen that in tankery before." Valarie remarked with curiosity.

"Rather ingenious really," Heather then said. "It keeps team members fresh. One group attacks, retreats, rest, and then another goes in. Repeat until necessary. Works better with large teams, meaning the Italians must be."

"You're probably right. With that in mind, it wouldn't be smart to go on the attack until we thin enough of their numbers."

"So...more waiting?" Ashley asked, moaning as she did."

"I'm afraid so."

"Ugh, and you said 'you don't do boring'."

The radio suddenly came alive.

"Incoming tanks from the north-west!" Amber reported.

Valarie turned her gaze toward Ashley, where she saw a rare sight. Her face was red.

"You were saying?" she said, faintly grinning.

"Um..." Ashley muttered, scratching the back of her head. She grabbed a shell from the rack and shoved it into the break. "R-Ready!"

The T-44 moved behind the tanks that formed the north-west section, which was composed of the Panther II, IS-3, and Jagdpanzer IV.

"Hold your fire, just like before." Valarie reminded them.

Like last time, Palatine launched their smoke grenade ahead of them to cover their charge. It spread in all directions, with the amount of grenades fired making it thicker and to last longer. Not long after, the enemy opened fired from the relative safety of their smokescreen. This time around, Valarie did not immediately issue the order to return fire. She was out of her hatch, peering deep into the smoke. She was looking for something. This terrified Emma.

"Valarie, Valarie please! Get inside!" she pleaded.

"I'll be fine," Valarie responded as shells whistled all around her, exploding behind them. "I won't see what I'm looking for from inside the tank."

"You're going to give me a heart attack!"

Valarie reached for Emma's hand and held it firmly. Her softness soothing her girlfriend.

"Nothing will happen to me, I will promise you that. I need to do this, it's important."

Hesitating, Emma nodded but still held her hand. Valarie resumed looking at the smoke. It strained her eyes doing this as she was focused. All the while, the enemy fire continued to come down upon them.

"Hey, uh, _Oasis_? We have guns you know." Ray said over the radio.

"Hold your fire." Valarie reaffirmed.

All of her energies into looking into the gray smoke, it was near hypnotic. She could have easily zoned out when finally she saw what she was looking for. A flash.

"The flashes...their muzzle flashes! Take aim and fire at them!" Valarie ordered.

The tanks in the sector were more than happy to oblige. Multiple volleys were unleashed into the smoke, but again, they could not know if they are actually hitting their targets

"Use machine guns, light them up!"

A torrent of machine gun fire descended upon the smokescreen, more terrible than any storm. Valarie hopped that the bullets bouncing off the enemy tanks would make them more visible from the impacts, but it was if as soon as the bullets entered the smoke, they disappeared. A few minutes later and the firing stopped, the smoke dispersed. To her dismay, none of them say knocked out tanks before them. Just the ground and trees mutilated to hell.

"God dammit!" Valarie cursed, slamming her hand against the metal of the turret. "They must reposition _immediately_ after each shot."

"Hey, at least no one on our side got eliminated." Paige said to cheer her up.

"Yeah...ugh, if only we could see them through the smoke."

Her words got Paige inspired. "Hey, won't our infrared equipment help out here?"

"Your IR tools are based on technology from the 1940s. It's not that good to be honest, especially against modern smoke grenades. Oh, and, you better take a second look at your equipment."

Puzzled, Paige came out of her hatch and to her shock saw that the turret-mounted IR device was gone. Looking behind her, she saw pieces of metal strewn across the ground. In the firefight, the device got struck by a stray shell and she failed to immediately notice.

"OH COME ON."

As Paige and her crew lamented over another destroyed IR device, Valarie pondered her next course of action. She was out of her tank and pacing around the ground.

"They always use smoke to hide," she mused. "We shoot into the smoke but we can never seem to hit them, but they can't either as they're as blind as we are. Knocking us out isn't their goal," she now realized. "It's to get us to waste ammo to weaken us."

"What do we do about that?" Natalie asked her.

"Somehow, we need to make them visible in the smoke. Like, if there was some fire or bright light...hmm...something bright behind them."

A solution struck her like lighting, as moved just as fast to her tank to get on the radio.

"_Sierra_, got any illumination rounds on hand?"

"Uh, yeah, we got a few. Why?" Jacqueline responded.

"Have one ready to fire, please."

"You got it"

Valarie clicked off the radio and gazed out to the forest.

"Come attack again. I dare you."

* * *

The Principes returned to the main group just outside the forest. One of the commanders went to Cesena.

"It went well. The Americans are getting angry, they are starting to use their machine guns."

"Less ammo for them, that favors us. Take your rest." Cesena said.

The Principes went away for their break as Cesena moved to the next stage of the plan.

"Time for the Hastati to jump back in."

Then, a commander from a nearby ISU-152 ran up to her.

"Cesena, please send us in! You only used us _twice_ in our nationals!"

"You know your role as the team's elite veterans. You will attack when I say. Understood?"

The ISU commander looked like as she was to argue, but Cesena's glare stopped her from doing anything other than returning to her machine.'

"Now, as planned, the Hastati will go on the attack!"

* * *

With a new strategy ready to go, Valarie was very much looking forward to Palatine's next attack. Though as she waited, she wondered about their wave strategy.

"What's the organization behind that..." she thought aloud.

Ray was nearby and happened to overhear. He went up to her.

"I've got this hunch if you're willing to hear me out."

"Always. What's up?"

"Well, you know the uniforms of Palatine's leadership when we met them earlier today?"

"Yeah, skirts and capes."

"Not skirts. Tunics. You see, their uniforms are based on Roman centurions. They must be very much into Rome, can't blame 'em."

"Okay, what can that tell us?"

If their appreciation of Rome goes beyond their fashion, and influences how they go about their strategy, then their wave attacks makes sense because the Romans did something similar with their Maniple system.

"...Maniple?"

"To put it simply, it was organized like this; Hastati, Principes, and Triarii. Hastati were made up of the youngest men and were the first to be used in battle. After that, the Principes would be sent in, made up of more experienced men. They would go back and forth for a while to give the other a break. If both failed, then the Triarii would be sent in. They are used in dire circumstances."

"So, if the first attack was the Hastati, and the one we just had was the Principes, then the next attack will be the Hastati again?"

"If I'm right, then yes."

Valarie processed the history lesson she was just given, which made her grin and laugh a little. "God Ray, am I glad you are on this team."

Nearby, at where the SU-14 was positioned, Jacqueline was circling her machine, searching for someone.

"Lana?" she called out. Where was her driver? "Lana!" From behind her, she hear approaching footsteps, prompting her to turn around. But it wasn't who she thought it was.

"You're not Lana." Jacqueline declared.

"Um, yes I am? That's my name." Lana responded, confused.

"Wait. There's two Lanas on this team?"

"Guess so."

This in fact the driver on the SU-100. She had her helmet tucked in her hand, with her brown hair dancing in the wind.

"Where's the other Lana? Do you know?" Jacqueline then asked.

"I'm right here." a voice said. There was the Lana Jacqueline knew.

"Where were you?"

"Trying to find someone who wants to trade these cookies," Lana explained, holding up a bag of the treat. "But no one wants the hard kind."

Lana walked over to the other Lana.

"So, you're Lana too?" she asked her.

"Yeah, kinda cool if you ask me."

"Well, while I'm here, got anything good to trade?"

"Alright, hold on, we need to get this same-name thing sorted out." Jacqueline remarked.

Before she could speak any further, the girls noticed that members of the team who were out of their tanks suddenly sprinted back to them.

"Oh, nevermind! It's time to mount up!"

From the tower, Raven has raised the alarm.

"Hostiles inbound from the south-east!"

The south-east section prepared for what was coming. It was composed of the Stuart, Puma, ACIV, and AMR. In a matter of moments, the T-44 joined them. This is what Valarie was waiting for.

"_Sierra_, are you locked and loaded?" Valarie asked.

"Oh, yes ma'am."

"Good, on my mark."

From her vantage point, Valarie saw the incoming tanks only briefly before they were shrouded in the smoke they had created. But what she did see confirmed Ray's theory as they were the tanks that first attacked them earlier in the day. Like before, the enemy tanks hide in their expansive smoke screen and started shooting.

"Time to get out of the shadows. _Sierra_, target behind their smoke and fire."

"Understood."

The SU-14 raised its gun and the crew within made the necessary calculations. Despite being short two crew members, they used the lull between waves to load the shell as Valarie requested. They let loose the illumination shell, which sailed over Mojave Rose and once it reached its specified height deployed its parachute and began slowing descending toward the earth. As it did, it shined brilliantly, brighter than the sun. Its intense light was powerful enough to pierce through the smoke and _every_ tank within was silhouetted against it. They were invisible no more.

"Fire on the silhouettes! Get them all!" Valarie instructed.

The ACIV was the first among them to fire a round. The shot was sent down range and into the smoke, and an explosion was heard and seen.

"A hit! We got them dead to rights!" Robin exclaimed with joy.

What resulted was a shooting spree. Not expecting this at all, Palatine suffered viscous volleys of fire from Mojave Rose. Each shot sent into the smoke found their mark. This sent Palatine's Hastati into complete pandemonium as their number fell by the wayside. Their assault has been repelled in every sense of the word and those that could managed to escape by the skin of their teeth. When the smoke cleared, the sight before the team made them all ecstatic. There, several hundred meters away lay wrecked tanks. Panthers. Crusaders. Panzer IIIs. T-34s. All eliminated from play.

"Now that...that was satisfying." Valarie, sitting back in her seat, with a huge grin on her face.

* * *

Cesena waited for the Hastati to return. From her position, she heard the distant thud of the guns when they then ceased. The amount of firepower she heard unnerved her slightly. It was more than she expected. She had this fear but stifled it away. After a bit more waiting, the sound of something coming out of the forest grabbed her attention, and with dismay, saw her fear be confirmed. Only one tank returned, a battered T-34 Model 1942.

"What the hell happened?" Where's the rest of you?" Cesena demanded.

"Immobilized. All of them. We just barely made it out."

"How did the Americans see you?"

"I...I don't know. Suddenly, there was something very bright behind us and after that...God, it happened too fast."

"Out of nine vehicles, one survived. Great." Cesena complained.

"The Principes are still at full strength. And the Triarii are ravenous for a fight." Labina reminded

"The situation does not yet necessitate the deploying of the Triarii."

"Yes, but our Hastati nearly being wiped out in a single engagement tells us we should do things a bit differently. Send in the Principes, I'll lead them myself."

Cesena stroked her chin, grinned, and gave a nod. "Go forth and conquer."

* * *

An engagement has been won, but more work needed to be done to win the match. Still, moral was high. Valarie contemplated shifting the perimeter again to refreshen the team's defenses but she got to thinking.

"They won't let that happen again," she remarked. "They will change their strategy and so must we." she looked at her tablet to see if it would give her any inspiration. After a bit of staring, she concluded that the perimeter has outlived its usefulness. When the next attack comes, she wanted every gun on the team to come to bare on the enemy.

"When Overwatch spots the enemy," she announced over the radio. "All vehicles on the perimeter are to form a firing line facing the inbound enemy"

By now, it was well into the afternoon. The energy among the team was good but exhaustion was beginning to take root in them. It didn't help that the area they were in was well shaded, making them think it was later in the day than it was.

"Anyone got any coffee?" Valarie asked her crew. They shook their heads. "Well, were they any in the supplies?"

"When the supplies got here, they were the first things people got." Ashley told her.

Valarie let out a sigh and rubbed her face. It wouldn't be wrong to say that she was the one on the team that was feeling the exhaustion more than anyone else. She grabbed a water canteen and drank some it, as it was better than nothing. She had to remain alert. Once the assault occurs, she won't feel tired once the adrenaline is pumped through her veins. The team won't be waiting for long. Up in the tower, Overwatch spotted something amiss.

"Some of the trees are being pushed around." Raven noted.

Amber joined her sister and were looking at what she spotted.

"No smoke this time, eh?" she remarked.

"Nope. They're trying something different."

The trees being disturbed had birds fly out of them, cawing their displeasure. Palatine's Principes were on the march, doing things differently this time around with Labina at the helm. They were structured with a line of heavy tanks that were composed of Churchill Mark VIIs, KV-1s, ARL-44s, and a Black Prince. Behind them were the less armored Semovente 105s, using their heavy tank comrades as protection. Mojave Rose was alerted and formed their line. Ray, out of his hatch, viewed the advancing enemy.

"I'd say that they're in testudo formation, but I think that'd be a stretch."

"Not the time for another history lesson, _Juniper_." Valarie told him.

Mojave Rose held their fire to allow Palatine to get into an effective firing range. But Palatine did something that none of them expected. Each commander of the heavy tanks popped out of their hatch with grenade launcher in hand. Simultaneously, they fired grenades into Mojave Rose's position. Not smoke grenades, but illumination rounds. Effectively, they were deploying flash bangs. Instantly, the crews of Mojave Rose couldn't see. The radio descended into chaos with not one voice being heard, but rather, an amalgamation of human voices crying out in intense irritation. Instinctively, tanks reversed out of their positions to get out of the bright light. Some invariably crashed into others, impeding their attempts as their vision was incredibly obscured.

"I can't see, I can't see!" Emma cried out. "The gunsight is unusable!"

"Get us out of this mess!" Valarie commanded.

The T-44 quickly reversed to relatively safety along with some others that managed to back up without crashing.

"To anyone that can see, fire at will!"

Cannon fire erupted from both sides. The IS-3, recovering from being blinded, quickly took out an ARL that was in the process of taking a shot at the Jumbo, whose crew was still disorientated from the lights. Valarie immediately noticed the danger and set out to address it. "_Juniper_, _Jackalope_, shield _Sonora_. They don't get a scratch, you hear me?"

Wordlessly, the IS-3 and Super Pershing moved quickly to the aid of the Jumbo and got in front of them, taking all incoming fire heading their way. As the ambush drew on, more of Mojave Rose recovered and joined in on the action. The SU-14 being the farthest away from the chaos was largely unaffected from the blinding and took its time picking out a target. The enemy wasn't miles away which made the calculations very simple. With a pull of the trigger, the artillery lobbed a shell over everyone where it brought the utmost ruin to a Churchill tank.

Mojave Rose was in disarray during the initial stages of the assault, but now they have rallied and launched a counter-attack. The fighting intensified, with friend and foe alike succumbing to the combat. Amber and Raven were still up in the tower, watching the stunning spectacle below as if it was some war movie. It was here that Valarie's decision to put them up there as spotters paid dividends as the pair relayed invaluable information about the enemy's positions to their allies below. The initiative that Palatine held has slipped from their hands and was in the firm grasp of Mojave Rose as they had their backs on the wall. More of their tanks were struck and knocked out, as they were all reversing. Labina could she that victory, nor even escape, could be achieved. Thusly, she ordered the remaining tanks to form up to make a last stand. They were subsequently surrounded and their guns were silenced. With that, a calm returned to the forest. Smoke lingered in the air, not from grenades, but from the incessant cannon fire. There was also this intense odor of vaporized powder, burned grass and wood in the air. The crews of both teams were sweating for their fighting compartments grew warm from the combat. With the calm restored, Valarie could now think about what just happened.

"Okay...okay..." she said, taking moments to breathe. "Any casualties?"

"_Yucca_, _Arroyo_, _Acacia_, and _Ocotillo_ are out." Ray informed

Four of their tanks down for the count. Valarie rubbed her forehead, which was moist with sweat. "We've inflicted more damage on them," she declared. "Overwatch, return to _Sierra_. Your job is done. It's time to go hunting."

* * *

Cesena waited for tanks that wouldn't be returning. As the sun began to set, reality has sunk in. Labina's forces have been wiped out, confirmed by the haunting quiet from the forest which unnerved her. She looked back at the remaining one-third of her forces. She breathed in and out to relax. The climax of the battle drew near.

"It comes down to the Triarii."

She ordered the remaining forces to move, not to the forest, but out to the open fields to prepare for the final encounter.

* * *

The observation tower served its purpose and was now vacant. With the SU-14 crew now with a full crew capacity, what remained of Mojave Rose moved from their position and departed the forest for the first time since the start of the match. The area was clear, though Valarie still received some ill news regardless.

"Um,_ Oasis_, I feel like I should tell you that my tablet is broken." Natalie informed her.

"What? How?

"I dropped it during the fight and only now could I grab it from the floor. The screen is smashed to hell."

"Aw man, that sucks."

"Since we're sharing, I too dropped my tablet. My hands were sweaty." Haley reported.

"Oh, come one guys!" Valarie scolded.

"Hey, my tablet has mysteriously malfunctioned! And I totally did _not_ drop it!" Cassidy shared.

Valarie buried her face in her hands. "Very cool to hear guys."

Technological mishaps aside, they continued their drive into the fields. Some minutes passed when Valarie then spotted track marks heading off into the distance.

"Ha. All roads lead to Rome." she joked.

The team followed the tracks with the setting sun behind them. The temperature had now cooled and exhaustion was felt by all, but they sensed that the decisive engagement was upon them which gave them the energy to carry on. Suddenly, there was the sound of immense thunder as the Super Pershing was stuck by a huge shell on its vulnerable side turret, making it crawl to a stop and yield a white flag. The team screeched to a halt and found the culprit, and ISU-152. Before the team could immediately react, another team revealed itself, a Panther Ausf. F. It began to search for a target but the tank just so happened to drive right into the sights of the IS-3, and they paid for it dearly. Mojave Rose formed up and retaliated against this ambush. The slow reload of the ISU-152 made it a vulnerable target and with the total lack of cover, was at the mercy of the Jagdpanzer IV, who promptly shut them down. Then, seemingly out of no where, five T-34-85s made their appearance. They charged Mojave Rose, firing wildly. In their first volleys the Stuart and Puma were hit, and with their light armor, stood no chance. The casualties were piling up on both sides. A shot from the Panther II slew of the T-34s when Valarie issued an order for the SU-14.

"_Sierra,_ end those 34s."

At close range, the SU-14 delivered a hellstorm of high-explosive that eliminated the remaining Soviet tanks, flames burning upon them as they stopped dead. As quickly as it started, it came to a close.

"Were any of them their flag tank?" Ray asked.

Among the wreckage, none of Palatine's tanks had a flag that wasn't white.

"No...but they can't have much left. We have the advantage here." Valarie said.

Not too far from where they were, Cesena was in her Challenger. She was the last tank remaining on the team, and was the flag tank. So different was the situation compared to just a few short hours ago. The mood was dire. She looked to her crew who was looking back at her. Despite it all, their faces weren't of despair or gloom, but still of determination. A willingness to fight. She was proud of them and immensely so. She was proud of the team overall and though their performance today wasn't as she hoped, her love for them was as strong as ever. In her tank, she sat in silent contemplation. A quote entered her mind. Words matched the mood of the situation.

"The city has fallen, and I am still alive."

She had a flare for the dramatic. The quote doubled as an order and the Challenger drove from its position and charged madly toward Mojave Rose. It's 17-pounder got to work, with Cesena's expert gunner handling the rough riding superbly. One shot and the Jagdpanzer was knocked out. The shell canister was ejected and another round rapidly reloaded. The Panther II was next, struck on its turret, and immobilized. Two tanks in quick succession, but this would be all they will manage to achieve. The T-44 ranged them in and fired a shot. The round pierced and exploded on the British tank, bringing them to a slow stop. Palatine fought as hard as the Romans, and by day's end, they fell like them as the great civilization did eons ago. Silence fell upon the entire battlefield, only to be interrupted by a radio announcement.

"Mojave Rose of the United States has won this match of the Internationals!"

_Later_

Even at the late hour of the evening, the spectator's area was crowded and alive with activity. At a private tent, the Mojave Rose team celebrated their victory by resting on the benches. Redwood and Buchanan were among them, both smiling and filled with joy.

"I'm speechless," Buchanan told them. "You kids are something else. I keep saying that, but damn, does it not stop being true."

"Outstanding!" exclaimed Redwood. "I'll have you guys know that the school district really _really _loves winners."

As the team relaxed, Valarie got out her phone and turned it on, as she turned it off prior to the match to avoid getting distracted. When it booted up, she was utterly bewildered to see that she was being flooded with messages. Not only were her parents going insane, but all the captains of the teams she has faced off against in the nationals were sending their sincere congratulations and further well wishes. She had to sit down for it was all overwhelming. Emma took notice and sat down with her.

"Oh to be the popular girl." Emma teased.

"Oh, please." Valarie laughed.

"So, how do you feel?"

"Tired. Happy. Bit hungry."

At the entrance of the tent walked in two girls. They found Valarie and went right for her. Valarie recognized them and stood up from where she sat.

"Dust devils..." Cesena spoke aloud. "A word that cannot be more aptly named because you all fought like devils. Your combat prowess is...ferocious...and admirable."

"Thank you." Valarie said warmly.

"I would have never thought that losing to an American team would feel...alright. I don't know what exactly I'm feeling, but what I'm trying to say is that you are worthy opponents." Labina told her.

'The feeling is mutual."

"Well, Valarie Woodlin, what I am pleased about is that you are true to your word," Cesena said with a grin. "You certainly don't do boring. May you have good omens in your future endeavors."

With that, they shook hands and departed. Valarie returned to her seat. "Ahh, I feel great. And I am going to pass out the moment I hit my bed."

"Same here." Emma said with a yawn.

In the next moment, Madison arrived and went for Valarie. The two hugged.

"I never doubted that you'd win, you master tactician."

"Oh, stop it." Valarie replied with a blush.

"Hey Madison," Emma then said. "I was thinking that tomorrow that we all take a tour around Spain for a bit. Knowing you, you probably been here a few times already and can show us the good spots."

"Oh, I really wish we could, and yes, I have vacationed here a couple times before, but we all have to return to the ship now."

"Aw, really?"

"Sorry. I don't control the schedule."

Disappointed but understanding, Valarie and Emma, along with everyone else, left the spectators area, boarded a bus, and returned to Catalina's school ship. Their next destination was a familiar one. California.


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their first victory behind them, the team gets their tanks back in working order and add some cool artwork while they're at. Yet far from them, trouble begins to brew.

_Thursday, July 25th 2013_

_At Sea_

The day after matches for the Mojave Rose team always consisted of one thing—sleeping in. In the apartment complex, everyone was in their unit, enjoying the warmth and comfort of their beds after spending all day yesterday confined withing their steel machines. It wasn't until 11 A.M when some people roused themselves from their beds to carry out their day. There would be no meeting today nor would there be practice Saturday, as to give the team some well-deserved respite. Though, there will be a meeting tomorrow to repair their vehicles. In on of the units, Valarie was among those people who rose at the 11 A.M. She was tidying up her bedroom as quiet as she can as to not disturb Emma, when she then heard a soft knock at her door. Having a good guess at who it was, she went to answer it promptly.

"Good morning, Madison." Valarie greeted.

"Good morning to you too. Still feeling the high of your victory?"

"High, huh?" Valarie remarked with a small smile. "Hmm, I do still feel pretty good."

"I would think so. Remember what we heard on that radio show?"

"I do, I do. I just try not to think about it because I don't need the pressure. Speaking of the radio," Valarie went to another room and returned with the radio in question. "You left it the other day. Here."

She handed the device to Madison, who rebuffed it.

"Hey, keep it. I got plenty of radios."

"Really? Well...thanks! Wow, is this some mission of yours to spoil me rotted?"

"Mmm, maybe." Madison replied with a telling smile. "Now, one of the reasons I'm here is to remind you that the ship is—"

"Going home." Valarie finished.

"Yes, that's right."

Valarie paused for a moment. "This is the longest I've been away from home, a record that is being broken by the day. When will we reach port?"

"July 31st"

"Alright, just a few days."

"Anxious are we?"

"I am. I want to see my parents."

"Right, right, right. How are they, by the way?"

"Pretty well. My mom told me that they are a lot of cool things happening at the welding shop. Loads of tank-related projects 'cause she tells me the team has become a sort of like local celebrities back home. My dad sent me a photo of the truck he's driving right now. It's one of those trucks that carries cars and it was loaded with sports cars. Man, did they look _nice_"

"That's great to hear."

"Now...um," Valarie began but stopped briefly to gather her thoughts. "Ah...I want you to come with me when I go to my parents. They need to know about you."

Madison began to sweat a little. "...Um. O-okay."

"Especially since we have the same dad, technically."

They both were silent for several, long moments. Valarie then broke the silence.

"This is all freaking weird, isn't it?"

"Totally. But also kinda thrilling. Anyway, when we tell your parents about, well, me, we have to do this with the utmost grace and tact. I can see this talk going to hell _r__eal_ fast if we don't do this right."

"God...if my mom misunderstands and takes something the wrong way, she'll charge at my dad with a knife."

"That won't be happening. We'll do it right and it'll all be okay."

Madison gave a warm smile as she said that, which inspired Valarie to do the same and filled her with confidence.

"So, any plans for today?" Valarie asked her.

"Not much, truthfully. Other than hanging out with you."

"That sounds good to me."

Madison proceeded to walk about the apartment as Valarie went into the kitchen to fix herself a snack. Madison took a look around to see how her sister personalized the place. From what she can observe, Valarie seems to have a preference for minimalism. On a whim, Madison decided to peruse a bookshelf where she saw a collection of notebooks tucked within. She grabbed one at random and went through it, finding that the words were handwritten, along with some drawings seeded throughout. These drawings were of fictional battlefields, with symbols on them that very much looked like tanks, organized in a V-formation. A huge smile erupted on her face as she realized what this was. A battle plan. She read some of the words aloud.

"The enemy team positioned themselves on an island, which itself was in the middle of an incredibly shallow lake. Because it was so shallow, our tanks had no issue in crossing it to start the battle, despite the slowness from the water. We attacked on all sides to not only divide their firepower but to also cut off all escape."

Valarie, in the kitchen, froze when she heard the words being spoken because they were intimately familiar to her, and it should. Because she wrote them.

"NODONTREADTHAT." Valarie cried out.

She raced from the kitchen to try and snatch the notebook from Madison's hand, but she avoided every attempt with ease. She was a fencer, after all. Madison read on.

"The weather was more than poor. The skies were covered with gray clouds, winds were fierce, and great thunder was heard in the distance. A storm brewed, which put us on a schedule that we had to obey."

"Oh my dear lord, Madison! This is like reading someone's diary!" Valarie said, face red with embarrassment.

Madison faced her and raised her index finger. "Let me finish the page, and I'll stop."

Sighing, Valarie relented.

"Nonetheless," Madison continued. "The bond this team has was strong enough to overcome the obstacle, and I'm positive many more to come. VUW." Madison set the notebook down. "V...U...W. What is that supposed to mean?"

Valarie swiped up the notebook and tucked it securely in her arms. "My initials." she answered.

"Okay, I know the 'V' and the 'W', what's the 'U'?"

"Ulysses."

"So, you're full name is Valarie Ulysses Woodlin? Ulysses is a good one. Goes all the way back to the Iliad."

"Thanks. I like it a whole lot, even though I rarely, if ever, hear it."

"Now...these notebooks."

"Yes, I've written them. All of them. I wrote the thing you read aloud when I was 12. It's fake, of course, just me pretending. All the notebooks are related to tanks in some way." Valarie went to the bookshelf and reached for another notebook. Grabbing one, she flipped through it and showed Madison a drawing she made years ago.

"Nice...box?" Madison said, puzzled.

"Heh. It's supposed to be an A7V, but when you're only 7, you're not much of an artist. You know, the A7V is my all-time favorite tank."

"7-years-old. You've been a fan of tankery for about a decade now?"

"I've been a fan for as far as I can remember. My mom brought my tapes from a flea market...she thinks it was 2002. She thought she got me some Disney movies to watch and was surprised to find tanks locked in fierce combat when she popped in the tape. She was gonna turn off the TV when she then noticed how enamored I was with what I was watching and just let me watch it all. The rest is history, I guess."

"Wow, if things just gone a bit differently..."

"Mmm," Valarie hummed. "Then none of this would be happening right now."

_Friday_

"What are you doing with your hands?"

"Never heard of sign language before?"

Alice looked at Madison with intense curiosity, her eyes were narrow and arms crossed. "You've been learning sigh language? Why?"

"Oh, can't a girl learn a language just for fun?"

"No, you have a reason." Alice said as she continued to look her down. She stood quietly for a moment in thought, then entered into a grin. "Hmm. I read some information the other day about the kinds of classes that tankery team will be taking when school starts. One member of that team requires special accommodation as she has a certain medical condition. Oh my, what was it again? Oh! I remember now," Alice said, who stepped closer to Madison who was blushing greatly. "She's deaf."

"Y-yeah, so?"

"They are already quite a few deaf students already attending this school and you didn't learn sign language for them. But you did for that girl on the tankery team. The answer is clear. You have a crush on her, don't you?"

Madison took a breath. "Alice, I wish, oh I wish, you could've felt what I felt when I saw her for the first time. Her adorable dimples and gorgeous brown hair have been on my mind constantly since then. Lord, I've never felt this way toward anyone before, not this strongly. And that was just_ seeing_ her," Madison explained, who rubbed her hands in her hair the entire time all playful like. "I'm going to see her in that garage of there's. They got a meeting today."

"So, what's your plan of attack here?"

"Well, my excuse in speaking to her will be to ask her how she is finding the accommodations here, wowing her with my sign language, and then...then...ah, I dunno. I'll just wing it after that."

"Wing...it?"

"Sure, why not? I improvise my lines during our plays. This is the same thing! It...it'll be alight...hopefully" Madison boasted. She took a look in the mirror. "Gotta freshen up."

* * *

On days like these, the sounds of tools at work were rife, with a certain harmony that only tankery athletes could really appreciate. Today, the Mojave Rose team were in the process of repairing their vehicles after their debut on the world stage just two days ago. Some of the lucky ones will just required basic maintenance to get their machines back in shape. Others, though, required more. Those that were eliminated would have their crews getting dirty to get the job done. Over at the Panther II, the crew were in the process of installing yet another IR device for the turret.

"I swear, man, I swear," Paige muttered as she was tightening a bolt. "I will get out of this tank to beat the person who even thinks of shooting off our night vision."

Her crew hummed in agreement. Not too far from them, at the AMR, Cassidy and Nathan were busily tending to their little machine. Not with maintenance, however, but something more artistic.

"Oh man, this is looking _goo__d_, Nathan, good!'

"Oh yeah, and it was my idea too!"

"YeahYeahYeah, I'll give you that. Want a medal or something?"

Next to them was the Super Pershing, whose size dwarfed them. Louise took notice of what the AMR crew had done and was curious enough to go the brother and sister pair.

"What are you two doing? It looks fun." Louise asked them.

"What we are doing is adding a bit of personality to our tank." Cassidy explained, paint brush in hand. What they have is is paint on the left side of their turret an outline of a lizard in a bright white paint, with a blue tongue sticking out. "Our callsign is 'Skink', so why not paint the thing?"

Louise took a second to look at they have done. It was a simple design, minimalist even, not the mention very cute.

"Mind handing over that paint?"

Louise returned to her tank shared with her crew with what the AMR crew has done and they immediately fell in love with the idea. Soon, this idea spread out to the entire speed at speeds faster than even the most infectious virus could only dream of achieving. By midday, with all of their uniforms covered in white splotches, they were done and the team's tanks got a little more special. Keeping in line with the AMR crew, each tank painted their insignia on the left side of their turret, representing their callsigns.

The Super Pershing painted a depiction of the profile view of a jackrabbit, looking toward the gun. On its head were antelope horns that looked razor sharp. Perhaps one of the more dangerous mythical creatures out there.

The IS-3 donned a Spartan Juniper tree. It was tall and bushy, wider at the bottom and getting thinner as you go up. It resembled the bristles of an artist's paintbrush.

The Stuart sported a figure a figure wearing desert grab, like, well, a Nomad, riding on top a camel. They were really proud of the camel they made. All cute and such.

The Puma had a bit of trouble on how to depict a mirage. But after a bit of thinking, they figured the sun over sand dunes with wavy lines on them got the message across good enough.

The ACIV painted an Acacia tree on a lone grass plain. The tree looked like an open umbrella, with its wide, sprawling branches.

The Cromwell IV slapped on a Yucca tree, like one's that a person would see in Joshua National Park back in California. Each branch was thick, with the leaves only growing at the ends of these branches. They were like clubs.

The VK painted a dry creek bed. Yeah, what an arroyo actually is isn't as cool as the word itself. So, they added a cow's skull to spice things up.

Next, the Jagdpanzer IV went in a different direction. Though mesquite refers to various species of plants, the word is much more famously known for barbecue, so they painted a campfire with a chicken spit roast cooking right above it. Ray definitely enjoyed their artwork.

The SU-100 perhaps had the weirdest plant on display. The Ocotillo looked like someone planted an octopus in the ground, with its tentacles sticking up in the air. They embraced the weirdness.

The Jumbo proudly painted the Sonora desert landscape with all sorts of cactus plants. They got mad, though, when someone pointed out that it looked generic. But like Hell were they gonna change it.

The SU-14 painted their representation of the Sierra Nevada mountain range. Just don't tell them they just painted a bunch of triangles because you will be outnumbered when they come after you.

The Panther II liked the owl they made. They made its head face outward, so that it's eyes can see all who looks at it. Its eyes were red, giving off a foreboding aura. Heather in particular liked their insignia as it reminded her of the mythical Mothman.

And lastly, there was the T-44. How the crew decided to depict an oasis was simple. A body of water surrounded by palm trees. Nice, easy, with some elegance to it.

"This is fantastic," Valarie commented with a huge smile. "Now, the T-44 will always be known as _Oasis_.

"And Katanya too," Heather added.

"Yeah, yeah, it has two names."

Walking around, Buchanan marveled over what had just happened. "Amazing. And cute designs."

The tankery meeting was starting to wind down as all the major repairs have been completed, and tools were in the process of being returned to their proper places. It was around this time that Madison arrived. Upon entering, she looked for where the Jumbo was parked and made straight for it. She first found Haley, and knowing that she was the commander of the tank, spoke with her.

"Hey there, um, I'm looking for Harper."

"Oh, she's in the turret making sure the ammo is stowed nice and secure." Haley said, pointing.

When she did, Madison noticed that she was wearing bright red loader's gloves.

"Oooh, nice gloves. They make for a nice contrast with your uniform."

"Thanks, but I'm not wearing them for fashion. Well, kinda. But really, I'm wearing them because the bright colors make communicating with Harper clear."

"Awesome stuff. Alright, so, I'm going to go see Harper now."

"Lemme go with you to translate."

"No need. I know the language.

"Really? Well alright! She'll love that!"

Encouraged, Madison climbed up the Jumbo to reach the turret. The commander's hatch was open, and peering within, she saw Harper at work checking the ammo, her back to her. Madison breathed a huge breath as she wondered how to get her attention. Saying 'hello' won't work, for obvious reasons. So instead, she slapped her hand against the inner walls of the turret, producing a slight vibration that Harper felt, prompting her to turn around. Once she did, Harper's eye's lit up upon seeing Madison and showed her a sunny smile.

"Hello." Madison said, only to immediately stop and wince like she never before. Why the hell did she do that? Didn't she just think about not doing that? Damn her habits. She quickly started signing.

_"_ _Sorry for speaking. It just blurted out."_

Harper was visibly overjoyed to see that Madison could do sign language._ "__Don't worry about__._" she signed. _" __ I __learned long ago to read lips. I knew you said 'Hello'."_

Relieved, Madison continued.

_"_ _You're Harper, right?"_

She nodded. _"__Yes. I don't know your name though"_

_"_ _Madison. I came to see how you've been accommodated so far."_

_"_ _It's all very nice. This place is very deaf friendly."_

_"_ _I'm just curious, you've been deaf since birth?"_

_"_ _Yeah, though what I really have is sensorineural hearing loss. I just say I'm deaf because it's easier."_

_"_ _I see. So, how does being deaf make tankery different for you?"_

Harper looked up in the tank to gather her thoughts. The sport was so different when you're deaf so she just had to choose one thing that stuck out to her. _"__Even though I'm deaf, I still know when explosions happen outside the tank because I can feel them, their vibrations. And, let me tell you, I've come to love feeling them."_

"_Oh, I bet. So, I was just wondering..."_ Madison stopped as she overcome with nervousness, her face beet red. All the while, Harper just sat there waiting patiently. _"__How old are you?__Just curious.__"_

_"_ _17"_ _._

_"__Nice, we're the same age"__._ Madison then stopped again. How should she proceed? Should she be more direct in her intentions or be be more subtle? Before she could make a decision, however, Harper made it for her.

_"_ _Hey, mind if we hang out sometime? You can show me what this ship has to offer. I want to get more familiar with this place."_

Jackpot.

_"__Of course!_" Madison sighed with the utmost glee.

The two girls gazed into each other's eyes, both of them blushing, emotions swirling. Whether they know it or not, they had given each other exactly what they wanted. They continued talking, getting lost in conversation. Elsewhere in the garage, over at the IS-3, the crew were finishing up their duties for the day. As they were performing their final inspections, Ray came alone with his sticker book. Upon seeing what was in his hand, his crew took off their helmets to apply their latest victory marking, the tricolor flag of Italy.

"First nation down, boys," Ray said to them. "And more to come. Our helmets are gonna be like the United Nations when we're done!" Ray then tapped Italy in particular. "This one's for you, Hannibal."

They put on their helmet and wrapped things up. A few minutes later, Buchanan dismissed the team for the day. As Ray made his leave, he felt someone come behind and wrap their arms behind him. Arms that he knew who belonged too.

"Nat," he said affectionately. "I am addicted to your embrace."

"And I am more than happy to give them to you." she told him.

They turned to face together, hands clasped as if they were magnetically attracted. Natalie then noticed that peaking out of his helmet was bits of his hair.

"Your hair is getting longer, I see." she remarked.

Ray removed his helmet to reveal his hair, black, and a bit messy. For a guy it was quite long as it was now covered his ears and the back of his neck. Natalie reached around to grab a handful and gently tugged it around.

"It won't be long now before it's long enough to be out into a ponytail. That is, if that's what you still want."

"Oh yes I still do," he said with a grin. "And you are going to do it.

"I. Can't. Wait."

They walked off, arms linked, back to the apartments. One of the last people to leave the garage was Ashley, who was lingering around, watching Buchanan close things up.

"I know what I'm doing isn't super interesting. Why are you sticking around?" Buchanan then told her as she closed the main garage door. They both moved outside.

"I just have a tiny, little, widdle, question for you, Miss Buchanan." Ashley informed. Buchanan turned to face her. "When are you due?"

"...Excuse me?" Buchanan uttered, stunned

"I'm not blind, Miss Buchanan. I figured it out from your body language during the last few days. I also figured that you and Mister Redwood are dating, and since a baby is on the way, I'm gonna guess that marriage is too?"

Buchanan stared at her, mouth slightly open. "Damn, was Martin right when he called you perceptive."

"So, when will the baby pop out?"

"The _twins_ will arrive March next year."

"Twins!?" Ashley remarked. It was now her turn to be astonished. "Dear god, are you gonna be busy with them come next year.

"Yeah..." Buchanan said with a sunny sigh. "It's going to be great."

_Saturday_

Everyone on the team were spending the early Saturday morning all nestled up in their bed. Except for Heather, who at this early our, was out and about at a private parking lot for the apartment complex the team was staying in. Here was where we car was parked, a 2013 BMW 760Li, colored citrin metallic black. No doubt an expensive car to have, but with both her parents being doctors, they had to means to purchase it for their daughter. To say that she loved her car wouldn't properly convey the emotions she had for it. Some might say that the attachment she has for it is too strong. Her therapist has said that. She tends to ignore when people say that. Outside, Heather was cleaning the interior of her car. As she was meticulously going over the dashboard, the sound of approaching footsteps got her attention.

"Hey Heather, got a moment?" The voice of the approaching person was Valarie.

"I do," Heather responded without looking back at her.

"I'll just get right to it. My parents want me to get my driver's license. They didn't give me a deadline, but the sooner the better. Can you help me?"

Heather stopped cleaning and got out of her car to look at Valarie. "You want me to teach you how to drive?"

"Yes!"

Heather paced around in silent thought. "Hmm. I remember you driving us in the DPV when the team went camping. It was_ bad_."

"That's why I'm asking you. Not only can you drive a car, but a tank as well. If anyone on earth can teach a person like me to drive, it's you."

Heather looked at her for a few moments, and softly smiled. "Alright. I'll do it. But we won't use my care for practice. Hell no."

"Great! But what else can we use as a training aide if not your car?"

"The Humvee. I'm sure no one in the team will mind if it gets totaled."

"Now that's uncalled for..."

"Oh don't worry Valarie. I will teach you how to drive and you will get your license. It's my promise to you."

_Elsewhere_

_Same Day_

Many, many nautical miles away sails another school ship, bound for the Mediterranean. This large vessel didn't operate any tankery teams, but for two girls, they were talking exclusively about the sport. They were walking as they chatted as they entered the dormant campus of Golden Gate Institute of Technology.

"The results of the match on Wednesday are not what I hoped for at all," one of the girls shared. "I was stupid if thinking that I could rely on the championship drought that the U.S suffers in the internationals to put Mojave Rose in their place."

"Forget about that," the other girl told her. "There are still many more months of the tournament left to go."

"Yes, but understand that if Mojave Rose continues to do well in the competition, then our case of being against male participation in tankery will be _destroyed_."

"I am well aware, Cassandra."

"The boys on the team will still be our main focus, Juliana, but we still need to broaden out scope."

"How so?"

"Their captain. It's the bitch's fault that the sport is in this amount of danger. She had a duty to disallow males from tankery and she fucked it up."

"What can you tell me about her?"

"Other than being a loathsome piece of shit? Not much. She has no social media at all and what I can find on her are just news articles from the Barstow area, and it doesn't tell me much."

"Barstow?" Juliana mused. "The district Mojave Rose is in isn't rich enough to operate a school ship. How are they getting around for their matches?"

"I learned from talking around at their Spanish match that a school is hosting them. They're called Catalina, I think."

"Catalina...? Catalina!" Juliana exclaimed. "Why the hell would they..." She then stopped as it came together. "Madison."

"Whose this Madison?"

"Someone I got bad, rotten blood with."

"Well, let's lump her in then. She's complicit in this as much as them all."

"Gladly," Juliana remarked with a smirk. "Though our priority for right now is to learn more about Mojave Rose's tankery captain. I got a feeling that once we know what kind of person she is, we'll find something to take advantage of."

Cassandra laughed. "Oh yeah, we're gonna make her pay ten fold. Now, you mentioned before we met up that you have some news to share."

"I do indeed. My networking in the American finals and the Spanish match has gotten me a useful contact. We got to talking and I'm pleased to report that she recognizes the same problem we do. She's agreed to help in anyway we can."

Juliana stopped walking to show Cassandra her text conversation with her contact. She read through it, a wicked smile appearing on her face as she did. At the end, she let out a devious chuckle and looked back at Juliana. "Vive la France, eh?"


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mental health, horses, and German nobility.
> 
> This chapter has it all.

_Sunday, July 28th 2013_

_At Sea_

Sundays are characteristically lazy and this way was no different. What more, Catalina's ship was passing through a stormy patch at sea. The sky was covered with dark clouds unloading their stores of rain down onto the ship below. It was no hurricane, but it was enough to dissuade anyone who had plans to do anything outside. This didn't bother Heather one bit. She was in her apartment sitting up in bed with her computer on her lap. She was alone, room darkened, as not only were the lights off, but the curtains were closed as well. The silence, the solitude, these two feelings put her at ease. She loved moments like this. In a way, she felt secure. On her laptop, she was getting lost in a particular mystery that introduced to her back when the team went camping. The Prinz Oskar. Since learning about the stolen tank, Heather has consumed any and all information concerning the machine all over the internet. Currently, she was browsing a mystery-centric web-form where the Prinz Oskar was a popular topic of discussion.

_"__Does anyone really believe the thing is still in America?"_ a poster wrote. _"__It surely would've been found by now. At least parts of it."_

_"__It's obviously somewhere in Europe,_" another boasted with huge confidence that could be felt from the screen. "_The sudden and hasty departure of a cargo ship from the Port of South Louisiana is ironclad proof that the tank was shipped outta the States._"

There was one post in particular that garnered attention, not just from Heather, but from all the posters on the thread.

"_I can only speak anecdotally," the poster wrote. "But I've heard from a trusted friend who once worked at a French port from the 70s and 80s. He told me that a cargo ship arrived at an unusual hour at night. The amount of cargo unloaded was weirdly few, a lot less than what a ship of that size can normally haul. The biggest thing necessitate the use of a crane, and was covered with a tarp. But at one end was this protuberance, this bump. Like a cannon barrel._"

The post intrigued Heather, who reread it multiple times so that she could commit to to memory. She was now convinced that the Prinz Oksar was in Europe, though it's not like the search got any easier. As she continued to browse the forum, she then heard a knock at the door that startled her as it sounded more louder than usual as her place was dead quiet.

"Who could...oh I know."

She went to answer the door and standing outside was Ashley.

"Hey...man did you lose power or something? It's way dark in there." Ashley inquired.

"No, I just like it like this way."

"Alright you vampire," Ashley teased. "My I come in?"

Heather gestured her inside and the two sat down on Heather's bed in her still incredibly dim room.

"So, got any business here or what?" Heather asked.

"Oh Heather," Ashley said, feigning shock. "Do I need a reason to visit my girlfriend? Do I need to fill out the proper forms to get the okay?"

Heather sported a soft smile. "No, no you don't. But knowing you, you do have a reason.

"Guilty. I want to talk to you about some things."

"Like what?"

"For starters, I'd like to let Valarie and Emma know that we're a couple now. No reason to hide it."

Heather nodded. "Sure, sure. Though, I think they already suspect that we're an item."

This made Ashley let out a laugh. "Oh man, really? Emma, maybe. But Valarie? Not a chance. When it comes to things like romance, she's blind. Especially when it comes to intimacy. You know the type of intimacy I'm talking about.

"Yeah I know what you mean, sex right?"

Ashley was caught of guard by Heather's bluntness. "Huh. Um. Guess there's no reason to dance around the word now. Hey, how come the last time I tried to bring up the topic of sex, you shut me down?"

"I know you a lot better now, more comfortable talking about such subjects. Though, since we spend hours on end in a confined space, that tends to happen."

"Makes sense."

"Anyway, what you're saying is that Valarie is too oblivious and naive in that regard?"

"Totally! And it's weird when you think about it. She's a person who has been out of her hatch multiple times as shells fly and explode all around her, with her not even batting an eye. But would also most likely faint if she saw Emma undress."

"You described Valarie perfectly."

A grin that appeared on Ashley's face. "Hey, wanna see something cool?"

"Always."

"Nice! I'm gonna need to borrow your computer."

Heather passed it over and Ashley immediately got to work, typing quickly and without error. Heather watched with increasing curiosity. "What are you doing?"

"Accessing other people's internet browsing history." Ashley answered plainly.

"You...you can do that?"

"You sure can, especially if the WI-Fi is unsecure. These past few days have been fun, learning a lot about the people on this team. Ray loves his cooking videos, Jacqueline is super into airplanes and Marielle has quite the fascination with viruses and pandemics...Hey, since we talked about Valarie just a few moments ago, wanna know what she looks up?"

Heather gave Ashley a nod, which internally surprised her as she expected some kind of push-back over what she was doing. Some more actions on the computer and the desired information appeared on the screen. The results did not surprise them.

"Man, look at all this. Nothing but tanks, tanks, and more tanks." Ashley remarked.

"Almost like an obsession," Heather added. "I see absolutely nothing that isn't about tanks."

"Oh wait, here's something not related to tanks...AFVs for sales...AFVs?" Ashley questioned.

"Armored fighting vehicles." Heather answered.

"Oh. Nevermind. God, she's searching up tank data like it's her job or something."

"Because it _is_ her job. She's the captain."

"Yeah, but, would it kill her to take a break?"

"You know how passionate she is about the sport. Sure, you and I love it, but her love for it is stronger than, hell, anyone's on the team. And she's been a fan practically all her life."

"Still...she'll need a break sooner or later. Burn out is a real thing, just ask anyone who makes video games."

"Hmm, maybe. Anyway, now show me _your_ internet history.

The tone of Heather's voice was demanding. Ashley looked a bit uncomfortable. "What?"

"Show me your history."

"Ah...It's...It's not interesting."

"We've seen Valarie's. Now show me yours and I'll forgive you for that thing you did."

"...Forgive me? What did I do to you?" Ashley asked, utterly confused.

"Breaking into the garage office back at school to access my medical records."

Ashley was frozen in place, she felt the blood drain from her face and was beginning to tremble. "Wha—"

"You didn't think I saw you sneak off to go in there?" Heather interrupted. "I know Valarie went with you, but it was your idea. I just know it was. You went into that office to look up my medical records and I can understand the reason. My outburst of anger near the end of our very first match with Bascom. I didn't say anything at first, I bided my time, waiting for the opportune moment. And you made the moment possible."

Ashley couldn't form any kind of sentence.

"Now," Heather continued. "You violated my privacy, we violated Valarie's, it's only fair that I violate yours."

Ashley fidgeted her fingers and swallowed her anxiety, hurting as she did. Reluctantly, she pulled up her own info. Heather leaned in to read every word, grinning as she did.

"My, my, Ashley," Heather softly remarked. "You sure do look up a lot of naughty things. I don't think your parents would approve."

Ashley slammed the computer shut. "Alright, alright! You got your eyeful," Her face was beet red. "Satisfied?"

Heather leaned in to kiss Ashley on the lips. "Very."

The two girls collapsed onto bed and cuddled, their eyes gazing into each other. What Heather saw was a girl that despite all her own flaws and mental difficulties, loved her cherished her. Ashley, with her wonderfully short black hair, silver nose ring, and toned body earned from all her workouts. For a moment, Heather thought if she really deserved to be with such a person like Ashley, but this feeling was quickly dashed. Of course she did. Everyone deserved to be with the person they loved, and she'll be damned to let a voice in her head say other wise.

What Ashley saw was a girl that had this admirable fierceness. For the people she cared about, she was willing to go above and beyond. All of the aspects that made up Heather were ones that Ashley adored in every sense of the word. Heather, with her long black hair with bangs that reached her eyes, her slender frame that at times made Heather insecure over how she looked but Ashley appreciated all the same.

They were quite different people, with Heather being more shy and reserved and Ashley being more outgoing and boastful. It could be that they are different is the reason why they got together in the first place. Or, it could be another reason all together. Whatever it was, the two were in a state of total bliss as they embraced and felt the other's addictive warmth.

"Hey, ah, since you mention it earlier," Ashley said quietly. "How have you been with your mental health?"

"Good...good. Well, as good as one can be with my type of problems. Haven't had anything serious in weeks."

"It could be gone then."

"Oh I wish," Heather said with some sadness. "But, there's always been long periods of silence before something comes up. But I'll handle it. Always have."

"And you don't have to go through it alone."

Her words brought comfort and a smile to Heather. They shared another kiss.

"So," Ashley said. "When do we tell Valarie and Emma about us?"

"Later," Heather said with a yawn. "Stormy weather like this makes be tired."

* * *

"What is a...gunshot bride?"

Emma was at Valarie's computer, learning more about tankery. Though she has been participating in the sport for several months now, occasionally, slang, jargon, and other nomenclature she comes across confused her. And this term in particular she couldn't make sense of at all.

"A gunshot bride is an unofficial title given to gunners who score a knock-out hit on an enemy tank that was midair." Valarie explained.

"Midair?" Emma repeated with some surprise. "When the hell would a tank ever be midair?"

"Rarely. You'll need the circumstances to be just right. Positioning, gun laying, situational awareness, accuracy, and the environment you are in will all need to be perfect. Suffice to say, you're better off waiting for a full moon to land on Halloween. The last time a midair tank got hit was in 2000 during a regional match over in China."

"Huh. Why is it unofficial? You'd think the ATA or something would hand them out when, or if, they happen."

"Well, the title was first given out by tankery captains and it has since then become tradition that _only_ tankery captains give them out. Just something a little extra for captains to make them that more special. Or something like that."

"So, captain, gonna award the title any time soon?"

Valarie laughed. "The last time it happened was thirteen years ago...but I suppose anything can happen."

Valarie then went away for a bit, returning with the radio Madison had gifted her. Fresh batteries were slapped in, its power on, and tuned to 104.4 FM.

"Let's see what you have to say about us now."

There was some music being played sounding like it was from the 1940s, followed by a familiar British voice.

"_Hello, hello, listeners! I am Miss Vickers presenting yet another broadcast. In the wide, wide world of tankery, loads of things went down, so let's start off with the world tournament. Just a few short days ago, the United States scored a victory against Italy, a result that has some people surprised considering the U.S's track record. However, others have pointed out that the Americans are typically eliminated near the middle of the internationals, so their victory this early should not be regarded as something momentous. The United States is being represented by Mojave Rose High School from the hot sands of California. Whether or not this desert school will break the bitter chain of defeat or lay wrecked on the battlefield, is something only time will tell._"

The radio was shut off.

"Unreal to hear people talking about us over the radio." Emma remarked, all giddy.

"That it is," Valarie said. "And this time they were a bit more positive. Kinda."

For the rest of the day, the two girls listened to whatever the radio had to offer.

_Monday_

The team met in the garage doing what they do best. All of the crews tended to their respective machines, though as maintenance today was light, some people were focusing their time on other things. Ever since the insignias were painted on the team's tanks, the need to be creative still remained. So, some crews have elected to personalize their uniforms. Over at the Super Pershing, the crew there added some nice colors to their uniforms. In recognition of their commander's Mojave Indian heritage, the crew applied simple blue markings to their jackets, reminiscent of Louise's facial tattoos. Louise herself sported similar designs on her jacket, along with her helmet being adorned with a more elaborate design, filled with meaning that was special to her.

The Cromwell, instead of adding color, opted for new headgear all together. They have replaced their helmets with matching black berets. Adding a headset and goggles completed the look. They went for a British look as their tank was from Britain, so the berets felt appropriate. What really mattered, though, was they looked cool, and they did. These two crews were the only ones one the team to have customized their uniforms to such an extent. For now. Already, seeing eyes from other crews were brainstorming their own ways to make their uniforms their own.

At where the T-44 was parked, the crew were doing their routines. Heather was in her driver's position performing her usual vigorous inspections. She'll be damned to let a mechanical malfunction befall on her tank. Where she sat, the gear was checked for any abnormal stiffness, gauges looked out to ensure that their readings were accurate, and steering levers tested for their responsiveness. These checks were performed multiple times until she was thoroughly satisfied. As she worked, she felt a shadow fall on her. Looking up, it was Ashley.

"So, we're gonna tell them or what?" Ashley told her.

"Here? Where everyone can see?" Heather replied with some nervousness.

"Look, everyone knows Valarie and Emma are dating, they also know that Natalie and Ray are together. Do you see anyone on the team giving them grief about it?"

"No...everyone has been rather supportive actually."

"Exactly! There's no need to be nervous now. So, shall we?"

Ashley extended a hand, which Heather accepted. She was gracefully pulled out of her driving position and the two girls went to Valarie and Emma, who were at the rear of the machine. Upon noticing them, they turned to face them.

"What's up guys?" Valarie greeted.

"Hey, uh, me and Ashley got something to tell you both."

Heather hesitated in her speech for nervousness nonetheless gripped her. Ashley reached out to hold her hand to deliver welcome comfort. That action said it all.

"Oooh, I see." Emma noted with a smile. "You two are now more than friends, hmm?"

"Yeah, that's right!" Ashley exclaimed. "You two are gonna see us kissing, cuddling, hugging—"

"They get the point, Ashley." Heather told her.

"Oh, this is wonderful!" Valarie said with excitement. "This means that we can all go on double dates! Won't that be fun?"

"Oh my god! It would!" Ashley responded with equal eagerness.

As Valarie, Emma, and Ashley chatted with glee over the prospects of double dates, Heather remained silent, deep in thought. Her gaze was turned to the floor. There was more things to say. Something that couldn't be kept a secret for a moment longer.

"I have another thing to say to you both," Heather said, getting their attention. "But I'd really prefer if we go in the tank first."

"Why do we gotta—" Emma started to say but Ashley interrupted.

"It'd be really cool if we all piled in the turret."

The girls did so and squeezed themselves in the now very cramped turret of the T-44.

"Alright," Heather said with an anxious breath. "You guys already know that I have anger problems but that's not all I have," she hesitated yet again, but this time felt the gentle hands of her friends being laid upon her, soothing her nerves like nothing else. "Um...well, there's no easy way to say this," she cleared her throat. "Throughout my life, I've had this voice that tormented me, along with other things that confuse and generally question my reality. Since I've had this for a long time, I've taught myself how to get a handle on it, but damn can it be so hard. I didn't want to keep this part of my secret so it's better if you're all in the know...Hey, I feel a whole lot better. Like a load's been taken off my shoulder."

"Whatever happens, we'll be here for you." Valarie assured.

"You're not going through anything alone. We're your friends after all." Emma added.

With the moment at its end, the girls got out of the turret with Heather standing on top of the vehicle. "Man, that went great. I thought I was gonna cry." She then rubbed her eyes and felt a wetness. "Oh wait, there I go."

The meeting that day was coming a close. Though before the team could be dismissed, Redwood and Buchanan had some news to share with the team.

"There's some things going that we feel you all should be aware of," Redwood told them. "It's not related to tankery at all, rather, personal. Miss Buchanan and I are getting married!"

The immediate reaction of this news brought great surprise and cheers among the team. Some people had an inkling that Redwood and Buchanan were together in some capacity, while others didn't expect such an announcement at all. And the news kept coming.

"And..." Buchanan said, recapturing the team's attention. There was faint grin on her face. "I'm all knocked up."

The mood had become electric with what Buchanan has said. The couple were showered with congratulations, which made them blush greatly.

"Save the date, guys, August 17th," Redwood then said. "That's when the wedding is happening!"

* * *

After returning to her apartment, getting out of her uniform, and freshening up, Louise left the building and walked toward Inspiration Park. The only time she was at the park is when the team have their practices, but during them, she had to focus all her attention on her tank and crew. So, today, she went to the park to get properly familiar with the place. A nice walk later and she reached the outskirts. The trees went deep, soon shrouding the interior with darkness. Finding a dirt trail, she got on and followed it. The farther she walked, the more tranquil her surroundings became. The hustle of the city, which was called Little Long Beach, softened overtime before going away entirely. Now, all she could hear was the swaying branches of the trees, the songs of the overhead birds, and the chirping of the crickets unseen in the grass. Louise wondered what kind of wildlife called this park home. Looking up toward the branches, she could see robins and blue jays in their nests and moving their heads in a near robotic nature. Also among the trees were squirrels, climbing across the branches expertly and causing irritation among the nesting birds, fiercely defending their eggs. Shifting her gaze to the ground, she happened to glance on a rabbit, who quickly hopped away into a bush upon being spotted. Then, she heard something a noise that caused her to stop dead in her tracks. The whinny of a horse.

"No..." she muttered. "They wouldn't have horses here, would they?"

She was about to disregard what she heard as a mistake when she then heard it again, this time a bit closer. She couldn't deny it now. Captivated, she ran off the path, into the woods, toward the origin of the sound. Louise then found herself in a clearing, presented with a beautiful sight. In this clearing, grazing on grass, were a group of horses. And riding on top of them, were girls riding them. Her sudden appearance startled them all, though the horses looked like they could care less.

"Woah! exclaimed one of the riders. "That's quite the entrance you made there. Hello!"

"Hi," Louise responded. "I didn't know this place had horses."

"Oh, we're from the equestrian club," another rider explained. "We don't do competitions or anything like that. We just ride horses for the fun of it. Keeps things relaxing."

"A horse riding club, huh? That's cool."

One of the closer riders demounted and approached Louise. Upon doing so, she could see her facial markings much clearer.

"Hey, I thought you had to be eighteen to get tattoos."

"The rules are different if tattoos are part of your culture."

"Oooh, I get it. Native American?"

"Yep. Mojave tribe specifically."

"Neat! Are you a new student, 'cause I haven't seen you around school."

"I guess I am. Just arrive back in late June, along with the rest of my team."

"Team?" the girl said curiously. She then snapped her fingers. "Oh! Are you part of that tankery team that the school is hosting now and is the reason why we're going around the world?"

Louise gave a proud nod.

"Wow," the rider continued. "So you've been shot at?"

"Mmmhmm. Never a dull moment."

"Man, I could never do a sport like that. I'd get into a fetal position the moment I'd get fired upon."

The two girls shared a laugh.

"What's your name?" Louise asked.

"Mable, yours?"

"Louise. Now, Mable, I was wondering if you happen to have a horse laying around?"

"You can ride mine," Mable said, pointing to a brown stallion. "I'll show you how to—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Louise had already sprinted toward her horse, jumped on, and had her hands on the reigns in a matter of moments. Mable, and the rest of the riders, had astounded looks on their faces.

"Woah...you...you already know your way around a horse, huh?" Mable remarked.

"Of course, why wouldn't I?"

"I...Well, I didn't want to stereotype and all." Mable said sheepishly.

"Fair," Louise responded. "I spent my summers on my tribe's reservation and one of my favorite activities was horseback riding out in the desert. God, it was so much fun."

Mable mounted another horse with another rider and returned to Louise. "Since you already have experience, let's see what you're made of. We're gonna go on the trail nearby and ride 'till it dead ends. Try and keep up."

With the slap of the reigns, Louise was already well on her way. "No, _you _keep up!" she yelled back at them.

Accepting her challenge, Mable and the rest of the riders galloped away with eagerness, disappearing into the forest, riding like hell to catch up with their new friend.

* * *

Night has fallen. In her dorm, Madison was all nestled up in her bed. She had quite the day, with her preparing for the upcoming orientation. Her bed felt extra nice tonight, her TV on but audio barely audible. But she wasn't paying attention as she soon drifted to a much needed sleep. Or at least she would, had her door not suddenly exploded in knocks. She groaned.

"Ugh."

More knocks, this time were more intensity.

"Nothing can be this important."

Several more seconds of furious knocking was endured. She was on the verge of losing it.

"Oh my good god, the nuclear reactors powering this ship better be having a damn meltdown or else_ I'm_ gonna have one."

She threw off her blanket, marched toward her door, and flung it open. Standing outside in the hall was Alice, who was beyond excited.

"Madison! You will not believe the news I've just learned!" she exclaimed with the utmost glee.

Madison took a huge breath and rubbed her forehead. "Oookay...what is it?"

"Viola Wilhelm is planning to transfer to an American school and Catalina is on her shortlist!"

Madison's eyes narrowed. "Am I suppose to know who she is?"

"You might be more familiar with one of her ancestors," Alice said with the hugest smile. "Kaiser Wilhelm the Second. Last emperor of the German Empire."

Upon learning of this revelation, Madison's eyes lit up. The anger and exhaustion in her body was expunged, and in its place, was overwhelming joy.

"You got to be fucking with me."

"Oh, but I'm not!" Alice exclaimed. "Catalina is on her shortlist and she is indeed the real deal."

Madison hopped in place as relished the opportunity presented before them.

"Alice, we _need_ this girl to attend. Just think of the prestige it would bring for the school if she does! A god damn German princess! Where is she, anyway?"

"In Germany, obviously."

"Oh, perfect! Germany is where Mojave Rose will have their next match! We can meet Viola in person to persuade her to attend!"

Madison quickly went to her desk and began drafting up a plan of persuasion. As she did, Alice cleared her throat. "Um, I should also tell you that Golden Gate is also on her shortlist."

Madison stopped what she was doing, and slowly turned toward her friend, her face containing a scowl.

"_What?_"

"Golden Gate is on her shortlist too." Alice repeated.

"Son of a bitch," Madison muttered. "No way, no god damn way will I let Juliana get her. She's not getting this win. We'll have to be on the top of our game to come out on top."

The two gathered around Madison's desk. Despite the late hour, they knew they had a long night ahead of them to get a plan drafted in order to persuade Viola to commit to Catalina.

"We need to research as much as we can on Viola," Madison said. "Also, we'll need to pass this news on to administration. They'll want her to attend as much as we do. We'll also have to expedite the boarding of new and returning students. Have them get on board as soon as possible once we make port in Long Beach."

"Of course, though since we arrive on August 2nd, which is a Friday, we'll need the weekend to stock on on supplies. It always takes a weekend for all the supplies to load up."

"...Right. Even if administration is obsessed about Viola, they can't make the loading of all the supplies faster. So, they'll make the order for the ship to depart the second the last crate is on board. Everyone will be on board by then."

"And in that case, orientation will take place at sea. Which will be fun. Not usually done."

"Mmm, indeed," Madison mused as she wrote down on her notebook at a furious pace. "Once we hit the open water, this ship will go_ full speed_ for Germany," a grin then appeared on her face, along with determination filling her soul. "August is going to be one hell of a month."


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has two dads...and two moms.
> 
> Interesting, ain't it?

_August 2nd, 2013_

_Golden Gate Institute of Technology School Ship_

_Mediterranean Sea _

The weekend was upon the ship, but for a trio of girls, all it meant that they were that much closer to the school resuming classes. They weren't particularly excited, if at all. The fun, liberating summer they had just had was coming to a bittersweet ending. They all felt like they were going back to prison.

"Oh, what possessed me to attend this school?" one of the girls whined, her voice singing a Southern accent. "I know I want to be an engineer and all, but this place is down-right soul-sucking."

"Your gonna go on another rant, Dakota? Because I'm really not in the mood to hear it, especially when school is about to start up."

Dakota ran her fingers through her light ginger hair and took a breath to calm down. Around her neck as a golden necklace with a crucifix attached, it dangle as the trip walked.

"Sorry," Dakota said. "I'm just a bit upset school is starting soon. It feels like this summer went by too fast."

"We all feel that way," Fiona told her, one of her friends. "Back to the factory floor..."

Golden gate was a school that they didn't expect to be how it was. Yes, while they were aware that it was a STEM-focused institution, they still couldn't fathom the fact that the school had absolutely to offer when it comes to the arts. No music classes, art, theater, philosophy, or anything that one would find at a school's humanities department. Sure, the school had English classes but only because the state of California required schools to have them as Golden Gate was, at its core, a private high school. Yet, their English classes were bare bones as they only scarcely meet the minimum requirements as set by the state. The trio had a creativity that yearned to be satisfied but it wouldn't be at this school. No, what was in store for them was a ocean's worth of math and science.

"Man the things I'd do to get a book club at school, but that place has shit all."

"Language, Fiona." Dakota said sternly

"Oh, I'm sorry, I keep forgetting that everyone I say a swear, an angel dies. My bad." Fiona said with heavy sarcasm.

"Besides, guys," Gracie said, the third of the group. "When we tried to start up a book club of our own, no one came. It was just us three. It was awkward, and a bit sad."

"We just have to get power through this, guys, like before," Dakota encouraged. "Two more years and we'll graduate and go off to a college together with an arts department. Our kingdom of heaven."

The trio continued waking throughout town, soon reaching their regular hangout spot; a warehouse. Not the typical place for teenagers to congregate, but these girls made this place their own. It helps that the owner of the warehouse is very much cool with them hanging out, and the fact that since it was climate controlled, made it very nice to be in no matter the weather was outside.

Inside, there were age crates piled high to the ceiling, secured with straps that looked like they weren't tended to in ages. They contained all sort of things, with no particular theme to be found. In a way, it was like this was a warehouse for a thrift store that had gone under. Here and there were chairs, tables, and other kinds of furniture that didn't look like they were from the previous century. In the more secluded corners were cobwebs, both abandoned and fresh with spiders on them waiting for their next meal. Yet, among all the random items in storage, was something that was truly out of place. Nestled in the far corner, basking in the sunlight from an overhead window, was a tank, steel cold from being dormant for decades. It was solely because of this machine that the girls came to this place regularly. Not long after their arrival, they went straight for the machine and rested upon it. Though they were laying on steel, there was a certain serenity in what they were doing, especially with the warm glow of the sun shining on them.

"It sure would be awesome if we got this thing up and running." Gracie said with a sigh.

"We tried, remember?" Dakota told her. "We put fuel in it but when we pressed the ignition, the engine did nothing. There's something wrong with it, but we don't have the tools or the proper know-how to get it fixed. And even if we could get her fixed up, what next? No one is gonna let us drive it around, I can guarantee that."

"Yeah...I can still dream though."

The tank that the girls rested on was a Panzerwagen 39, or simply Panzer 39. It was Swiss light tank, of which, was purchased from the Czech Republic. Back in its home country, this tank was part of the Škoda-CDK TNH tank series, with the perhaps the most famous tank from this series being, funnily enough, the German appropriated Panzer 38t. The Panzer 39, being a light tank, wasn't heavily armored at all, though was quite speedy at 45 kilometers per hour. It was armed with a 24mm semiautomatic gun, which was fed by a 6-round magazine. A beefed-up anti-tank rife, if anything else. It's paint scheme was typical for Swiss armored vehicles, being blotches of tank, green, and brown colors. In better days, this tank was once on proud display in a modest military museum on the ship. So modest in fact that the Panzer 39 was the only tank the museum owned. But, as part of a changing budget, funds for on-board museums were diverted to those with a STEM focus. The museum that was once home for the Panzer 39 had no other choice but to shut down. Most of the exhibits found themselves in this warehouse, so in addition to the tank, the girls found all sorts of military artifacts. One day, while just browsing around, Dakota happened to find a treasure trove of combat engineering equipment from the Second World War. Metal detectors, shovels, pliers, bolt cutters, and amazingly, dummy anti-vehicle mines. Her favorite thing of all, however, was a U.S Army flak suit that covered the torso. Whenever she was here, she always made it a point to slip into it. Despite its age, it still fit nice and snug and could protect her well enough from shrapnel. Well, her torso anyway.

"So, ah, guys," Fiona then said, playing with her black hair that barely touched her shoulders. In the sunlight, her tanned skin radiated with wonder. "Do any of you know who that girl is who is hanging out with Juliana? She just came outta nowhere and the two look like their inseparable."

"A new friend, I guess?" Dakota responded.

"Friend? No way, Juliana doesn't have friends. She has sycophants. As she is the student council president, everyone makes an ass of themselves in a bid to get her attention for their own benefit, and always flattering her ego by saying every idea she has is the best of the best. God, I hate her."

"Hate is a strong word, Fiona. Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all offenses. Pro—"

"Yes, yes, Proverbs 10:12. Geez, Dakota, thanks to you I'm perhaps the only person who knows every bible verse without ever opening the freaking book."

Dakota shot her a grin. "The good book always has something to say in every situation. So, let's refrain from saying we hate people, okay? As we are all—"

"Children of the Lord, yes, I know. You say that a lot."

"Girls, if you're quite done with your little bible lesson, I do have some information about this 'mystery' girl." Gracie informed.

Dakota and Fiona got closer to her.

"Well? C'mon now!" Fiona near demanded.

"That girl is a recent transfer from some school in Virginia. It appears that Juliana met her back in the States and was influenced to transfer here."

"Oh, so it's just another student with good math and science grades that she poached from some another school. It's what she does." Dakota remarked, laying back down.

"I dunno, Dakota," Fiona told her. "The way these two interact doesn't sit right with me. Their faces always look like they're up to no good. I think they're plotting something..."

"Fiona, it's not nice to make assumptions about people." Dakota told her.

"All I'm saying is that they give me this odd feeling. You two know how I can just tell when people are up to no good."

"Weeell," Gracie said, scratching the back of her head. "You were wrong, ahem, a handful of times. Like when you thought one of the custodians was going through your locker to steal your food."

"And that one time you thought a guy in trigonometry was throwing dust at you when it was actually just a dirty ceiling fan right over your head." Dakota recalled.

Fiona glared at them both. "Okay, okay, I've been wrong rarely. But most of the time? I was right on the money and this time around I never felt more certain."

"Just don't stalk them or something, alright?" Dakota remarked.

They spent a few minutes in silence, relaxing the best they could on the Panzer 39, when Gracie hopped off the tank to retrieve her phone that was charging nearby. She stopped before a mirror along the way to check herself out. Her was long, in a bright brown color, tied in a black-and-white polka dot hairband. Phone in hand, she returned to her friends, searching up something. "So, you guys been keeping up with the tankery tournament?"

Dakota and Fiona looked at her with eager faces. It was a rhetorical question. Of course they were keeping tabs on the competition, all three of them were. They were all fans, which is why they are in love with the Panzer 39 they just happened to find in this warehouse during their freshman year at Golden Gate.

"Um, yeah?" Dakota told her. "I'm not gonna ignore such an exciting thing!'

"Remind me, what country are you rooting for?" Fiona asked.

"The American team, obviously. I'm with them every time, even though they don't have the greatest track record in the internationals."

"Yeah, the school representing America sure has the odds stacked against them. I don't envy them." Gracie added.

"Well," Dakota said, gazing out the overhead window, hands behind her head. "They're going to try their best and at the very least, make their matches entertaining. Oh, and let's be respectful and know the name of the school. Mojave Rose."

* * *

_Catalina's School Carrier_

_Port of Long Beach_

"What are you playing with?"

Natalie was hanging out with Ray in his apartment. In his hand was a device with a bunch of foam electrodes connected to it.

"Ever since Miss Buchanan announced that she's pregnant, it got me thinking," Ray explained. "How bad is labor pains really?"

Natalie crossed her arm, eyes narrowed. "You...serious?"

"Yeah! This thing will simulate that experience through electricity. I want get a better understanding of things. Besides, I don't think they're that bad."

"Not that bad, huh?" Natalie said with a laugh. "Let's do this."

Ray laid down on a couch and lifted up his shirt where Natalie then placed the electrodes on his stomach. In her hand was the device and powered it on, and twisted a knob. Immediately, Ray flinched. "Woah! That, that stings a bit! Take it easy!"

"I barely started. It wasn't even a full contraction."

Natalie increased the intensity at a steady pace. As she did, Ray received more sharp pain as electricity pieced his abdomen and forcing it to contract. It made him squirm where he lay. He was already sweating.

"This...this," he started to say but a contraction shut him up. "This sucks!"

"A few more seconds and that'll be round one." Natalie told him.

More pain, groans, and yelps of pain later, Ray was given a breather. "Wow, I hate this."

"Women have to deal with that for hours, and you lasted, what? A minute?"

Ray looked at her directly in the eyes. "Are you daring me?"

"Maybe." she replied with a faint smile.

"Give it all you got. Don't hold back."

Natalie twisted the knob as far as it could, so much so that the device in her hands gave off a warning. Ray was delivered jolts of pain as his abdominal muscles contracted like never before. At this point, he couldn't speak in any sentences but only yell out the pain. His face was red, arms trembling, breathing labored, and now drenched with sweat.

"Thirty more seconds are max intensity, you can do it. I know you can." Natalie encouraged.

She held his hand which she quickly found to be painful as his hands were clamping down tight in a bid to manage the pain. The next thirty seconds would be the longest experience Ray would ever have in his life. The simulated labor pains were hellish. He felt as if his stomach was a raging inferno and was desperate for it to come to and end. Once his time was up, Natalie turned off the device and though Ray was overcome with relief, some of the pain lingered. He was definitely going to be sore tomorrow.

"Good...god," Ray said with a strained breath. "That was absolute hell," he removed the electrodes and sat up on the couch. He gripped his stomach and flinched at its sensitivity. "I wanted to understand, and man, do I now."

Natalie sat with him, hand still held. "You got a taste of what pregnant women goes through. Also, what period cramps are."

"Period cramps? How often do women get them?"

"Well, for me, I get them every time."

"Every month?!" Ray exclaimed with shock. "You're telling me that you get these cramps every month? How come I don't see you in pain?"

"They aren't too bad most of the time. Plus, when you've been dealing with them for years, you know how all the tricks to manage."

"Geez," Ray uttered. "I have a whole new appreciation for you."

"So do I, with you dealing with all that pain."

The two shared a laugh and then rested on the couch. As they laid together in tranquility, Natalie then felt Ray's hand go under her shirt and on her stomach. "Ray..." she said in a whisper. "Did all that really tu—wait...what are you doing?" she felt something being applied on her stomach.

"Your turn, darling."

As Natalie experienced a spontaneous ab workout, elsewhere in the apartment complex, a few people were having a different kind of time. In Valarie's apartment, she and Madison were having a discussion of what was going to happen later in the day.

"You're going to meet my parents today, and tell them all about you." Valarie said.

"...Yeah, um" Madison muttered. "Looking...looking forward to that."

"Nervous?"

"Me? No, no...no. Um, excuse me. I have to use your bathroom."

She departed and not even a minute later, returned, her hair frazzled.

"Are you okay?" Valarie asked her.

"I thought I was going to vomit, but I didn't. So, I guess I am."

"Are you scared that my parents will reject you or something?"

"Yes! Yes, I am!" Madison exclaimed, startling Valarie. "I'm so terrified!"

"Why do you think that could happen?"

"If I had to guess," Emma said, who was watching them talk. "That the reason Madison is terrified of being rejected is because of the circumstances of her birth. They may think that they were 'robbed' from having another child. As such, they may resent her."

"You nailed it right on the head." Madison said, head on the table.

Valarie couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Emma, you know my parents. They wouldn't act like that!"

"Later today, they are going to receive the news of a lifetime. In such situations, tend to act differently. But it can go the other direction. They could be _elated_ that Madison exists."

"Oh God, I hope, I hope you're right." Madison remarked.

Valarie rubbed her shoulders. "It'll be okay. Today will be a good day."

Madison stood up from the table and took several deep breaths. "What happens...happens. I'll be sure to bring that folder I showed you when we first met."

"Oh right, that'll be a huge help."

Madison paced around the room for a bit. "So...when do we leave?"

Valarie checked the time on her phone. "If we go now, we'll arrive not long after my parents get home."

_Later_

It was now the mid-afternoon. In Madison's car, Emma and Valarie were driven back to Barstow. Along the way, the trip there was nice and pleasant. They saw familiar sights and surroundings they had seen many times before, giving them pleasant feelings of comfort. Being August, the weather was warm, not a cloud was in the sky, the traffic horrible, and in the far distance, was the a columns of smoke from a wildfire. Quintessential California. All that was missing was an earthquake. As their surroundings grew more arid and sandy, Emma and Valarie grew visibly joyful as these were signs that they were approaching home. They felt like they were gone for years, and now were making a grand return. Once they were off the freeway and in Barstow proper, the joy was palpable.

"Man, this place can't be anymore different than Long Beach." Madison commented.

"You don't like it?" Valarie inquired, getting defensive.

"No, no! I'm just saying it's different. There's a certain charm in this place, honest! And hey, this is technically my hometown. I was conceived here."

What Madison said caused Valarie's face to enter in a deep red. "I...I could do without the details."

"Oh? You think that's detailed? I can tell you in vivid detail of the procedure that is done to make a woman pregnant at a fertility clinic. Step. By. Step."

"For the love of god, please don't!"

Contemplating for a bit, Madison decided against informing Valarie _everything_ about her creation. She didn't want her half-sister all flustered before meeting her parents. Though, before proceeding to their final destination, they made a stop at Emma's house. She got out of the car with Valarie right behind.

"We'll pick you up once we all return back to the ship." Valarie informed her.

"Cool. Good luck on telling your parents about Madison. Though, I know it'll go well. I can feel it."

The young couple shared a kiss and Valarie went back to the car. "Alright, let's do this."

The drive resumed and a short time later finally arrived. The car was shut off though Madison remained in her seat, staring blankly ahead. Valarie reached out to hold her hand. "It's going to go okay...you got the folder?"

Madison reached behind the seat and got held the item in question. "I do. No point in delaying it anymore, huh?"

"Yes, but let's not blurt it out from the get-go, yeah? I'll reveal it all when the time feels right and you present the evidence."

"Sure thing."

The pair got out of the car. Madison stored the folder in a messenger bag and wore it around her shoulder. Together, they walked up to the front door. With overwhelming glee, Valarie knocked on the door. Inside, they could hear the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. The door was opened and Valarie saw her mother.

"Mom!" she exclaimed, rushing into her arms.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's fells like you've been gone forever!"

Mother and daughter entered into a long embrace that lasted several, satisfying seconds. Pure bliss.

"No Emma?" her mother than asked.

"She has her own parents that miss her too, you know."

"Oh, can I relate to that," her mother remarked. She then noticed Madison standing just nearby. "Well, who do we have here? A new friend of yours?"

"Yep," Valarie said. "We met when the team got settled on the ship. We became fast friends."

"No wonder, you two look so alike."

Her mother entered the house. Valarie and Madison exchanged looks and followed suit. Inside, Madison took a good look of Valarie's home. In her mind, she for some reason pictured a place that was more destitute, run down. Why she thought this way was because when Valarie confided with her that her family underwent homelessness, she was of the impression that Valarie's parents were more worse off than they were. What she saw was nothing like that. It was a respectable home, a home that Valarie grew up and fiercely loved. She internally chastised herself for essentially stereotyping, blaming the bubble she lived in thanks to her wealth. Alice was completely right.

"So, what's your name?"

The sound of Valarie's mother spooked her a little as it roused her form her deep thought. She turned to face her stepmother. It was one hell of a feeling to know something she didn't.

"Madison." she answered.

"That's a lovely name," Valarie's mother complimented.

"Thank you...oh, where's Valarie?"

"In the backyard to fetch her dad. Probably hugging right now so they'll take a minute or two to get back in. Now, how did you meet Valarie?"

"The first day her team arrived on the ship, I elected to socialize among them. We met and hit it off right then and there."

"Why, isn't that nice."

The sound of a screen door opening and closing grabbed their attention. It was here that Madison saw her biological father for the first time. The resemblance couldn't be ignored. Valarie's father had the same green eyes and black hair that he had passed down to his now two daughters. It was totally surreal.

"You must be Valarie's sea-faring friend," Valarie's dad greeted. "How are ya and how's life at sea?"

"I'm...I'm doing well and life at sea is always a joy, with going around the world and such."

"I bet. I also bet that you two are worn out from your traveling, especially with all the traffic. Why not take a rest while dinner gets fixed up?"

"I'd like that, thanks."

"Come with me, Madison, I'll show you my room." Valarie said, pulling her away. Now relatively alone, Valarie's parents got together to say something discrete.

"Man, I can't be the only one seeing double, right?" Valarie's dad whispered.

"No, I'm right with you," his wife replied. "That must be why they became fast friends, they look so similar."

"Must be. Any who, we oughta get dinner prepped."

They went to the kitchen to get dinner underway. As they did, Valarie showed off her room to her half-sister. Immediately upon entering, Valarie plopped on her bed, giving her a sensation that she dearly missed. "Oooh, it feels so good to be back," Valarie said with a relaxed voice. "Better not get too comfortable or I'll surely fall asleep."

Madison explored her room. It was a bedroom that was undeniably Valarie's. The walls were covered with posters of tanks and all other sorts of military armored vehicles. M4 Shermans, German Panthers, Soviet T-34s, and so much more. There were also modern main battle tanks such as the M1A2 Abrams, Leopard 2A5s, and T-80Us on proud display. Moving to her desk, Madison then noticed a collection of neatly stacked papers. Picking one up and reading it, she learned that it was a early draft of a strategy of the team's first match in the nationals. Reading more the papers, she saw this name appear again and again that piqued her curiosity.

"Who is this...Nishizumi?"

"Miho Nishizumi," Valarie answered. "A Japanese tankery athlete that has one hell of a story with her. Comes from a family that has a deep history with the sport, gets shunned because her action of saving her teammates_ lives _caused her team to lose the nationals, transferred, and then saved her new school_ twice_ from shutting down."

Madison looked at her, overwhelmed with all the information that was just dumped on her. "Holy hell, you're gonna tell me her blood type next? You know an awful amount about her. If she wasn't across the ocean, I'd say you were stalking her."

"In tankery circles in Japan, she's a sensation. Outside of it, not so much. It was pure chance that I happened to learn about her while looking up international tankery online. Since then, I've been hooked. You know, all of her strategy serves as the foundation of mine. Her work is heavily referenced in my playbook."

"You're her biggest fan, aren't you?"

"Well, I don't know about that..." Valarie said with a blush. "But I do respect and admire her."

There was then a knock at the door, followed by it opening.

"Dinner is ready, you two." Valarie's mother announced

They all convened to the kitchen table where a meal was waiting for them. A dish that Madison hasn't had before, Frito pie. It consisted of corn chips, beef, beans, cheese, all wonderfully mixed together. Spicy, salty, and addictively cheesy. Just one bit and Madison was in love. Dinner went smoothly with small chatter, mostly between Valarie and her parents as they caught up. Once all the plates were put away, the focus shifted on Madison.

"So, Madison, the school you're in is an art school?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, a great art school. Though art in the most broadest sense. We do more than just paint."

"What kind of art do you do specifically?

"Act. I'm a bit of a theater kid. Also do some fencing to keep in shape and to satisfy my competitive side."

"Fencing?" Valarie's remarked with intrigue. "That is a fascinating sport, though isn't it the type of sport more well-off people do?"

"Umm..." Madison muttered as she cleared her throat. "It's surprisingly affordable to, um, get into. Of course, with every sport, the high quality stuff is the most expensive."

"Yeah, no doubt. One of the great things about the sport Valarie is in is that we don't have to spend a dime on anything. Everything is taken care of by the school. Really eases the financial burden, which we appreciate the hell out of."

Valarie's dad then set out some cups of coffee. "You drink coffee, Madison?"

"I sure do, thank you."

"I'll have a cup too, dad." Valarie sid.

"Well, damn, little lady, you're drinking coffee now?" Valarie's dad remarked, grinning. "Bet the next time you come home you'll be asking for a shot of tequila."

The joke made everyone laugh, with Valarie doing so nervously. She was glad that she wasn't telling her parents _everything_. Some things are really better off left secrets.

"So, girls, I can bet that you two get a lot of jokes thrown your way at your expense since you look so alike." Valarie's dad continued.

Valarie and Madison smiled, though internally they were going through a whirlwind of emotions.

"Y-yeah, we do," Valarie said. "So much so that stopped being funny early on. But we manage by just ignoring it."

"Hmm, looking at you both more clearly now, the resemblance between you two is rather uncanny," Valarie's mother commented. "Separated at birth or what?"

More laughter. Madison gave Valarie a look, wordlessly telling her that she cant bear to keep this secret a moment longer. Valarie placed a hand on her lap, and then, looked toward her parents.

"Mom, dad," Valarie began. "Um...there's a reason why Madison is with me today."

"With you?" her mother remarked. "Oh...Oh Valarie, is this your way of telling us you two are dating? Really? After ten years of knowing Emma you just break it off for a girl you've only known a month?"

"No, no, no! That's not it at all!" Valarie exclaimed as Madison cupped her hand over her mouth to stifle laughter. "Emma and I are still together. Why Madison is here is for an important reason."

Her parents exchanged puzzled expressions and paid close attention to what their daughter had to say.

"On the night the team moved in at the school ship, she invited me to dinner and shared with me an revelation." she paused. Her gaze was turned to the ceiling for a brief moment, followed by her breathing a huge breath. She then simply said what had to be said. "Madison is my half-sister. We're related."

Silence. Dead silence. The look on Valarie's parents were one of complete and utter shock. Both of them looked at them and then toward the table as the new slowly sank in and became their new reality. One of the most shocking news any parent could receive. That they suddenly have another child.

"You...you know," Valarie's mother finally said, voice shaky. "I...was just kidding about the separated at birth thing, my god."

"I'm..." Valarie's father started but trailed off. "H-how is this possible?"

Madison opened her messenger bag and got out the folder. "To give Mrs. Woodlin peace of mind, no adultery has taken place that resulted in my creation."

"No offense, but I think I know my husband better than you." Valarie's mother told her.

"Well, I just wanted to cover all my bases," Madison said as she opened the folder. "There's a lot of information here so I'll just go over what's important. Is it true that you two went to a fertility clinic in August of 1996?"

Both of Valarie's parents nodded.

"And," Madison went on. "Can you confirm that a sperm sample was taken to ascertain Mr. Woodlin's fertility?"

"God, Madison! Do you have to go into that much detail?" Valarie scolded.

"No, no, this is good Valarie. We need a firm understanding of what went down," her mother informed. "And yes, Madison, that's true."

Madison set down the folder. "My parents, the people who raised me, visited that clinic the same month. My mom had an appointment to get pregnant, but Mr. Woodlin's sample was mistakenly used. Nine months later, I'm born."

"Are...are you saying that you're my...daughter?" Valarie's father asked with amazement. "I have two of them?"

"Yes," Madison confirmed, looking right into his eyes. "You got two little girls."

Valarie's dad stood up from the table and went to a nearby window to look through, to collect his thoughts. His wife joined him, and together they quietly looked out the window. A few moments passed before one of them spoke.

"When Valarie was born, it was the most happiest day of our lives," Valarie's dad said. "Her birth was so special to us because we thought we'd never have children. It gave us hope. Hope that we could another child. We tried for years, _years_, to give Valarie a sibling, but nothing. We gave up trying and resigned ourselves to having an only child. But, here you are. Another miracle child."

Madison felt her eyes tear up and made no attempt to wipe them away. "You know, coming here...I-I thought you'd reject me. I was so scared."

Valarie's parents moved over to her, each of them with smiles. They too were crying. Valarie's dad put an comforting arm around her. "Never,_ never_, would I reject my own daughter."

Madison was hugged by them all, their warmth and comfort so overwhelming that she was now sobbing. She didn't know how this day would turn out, but crying this much wasn't what she expected. But she didn't even try to stop, just let the tears flow freely. This day has gone better than she could ever hoped for, as for today, she was with Valarie and her parents. With her family.


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just wholesome family things.

_Saturday, August 3rd 2013_

With what happened last night, Madison has never before been put in such a blissful mood. Since then, all of her muscles were nice and relaxed. Though, another why she felt so good was that Valarie's bed was amazingly comfortable. Once the previous day came to a close, Valarie insisted that she sleep on the bed with her rather than on the floor on a nest of blankets. Madison was a bit hesitant but Valarie's persistence quickly won her over and she was glad it did. Sharing a bed with her gave Madison a feeling that she didn't know she so badly wanted, a feeling totally absent all her life. Their sleep that night was comforting and tranquil, and considering all the events in the past few weeks, was well deserved. Though there was this one minor problem. As she had neglected to pack additional clothes for the weekend, she had no choice but to sleep in the nice clothes she was wearing already. All her unconscious movement in the night caused them to wrinkle.

"Aw man," she complained in a whisper. "These are my good clothes." She carefully got out of bed, ensuring that she didn't wake Valarie from her slumber, and took a look around the room. Seeing a closet door, she smiled at an idea. "If we're the same height, would we also..."

Madison walked to the closet and was presented with only a handful of clothes. Of course, Valarie has taken most of her clothes with her to the ship. Still, with what remained was enough for a fresh outfit. She looked behind to confirm Valarie was still asleep. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind."

Out of her clothes, she slipped on Valarie's and was delighted and a bit surprised to find that they not only fit, but perfectly so. It was then Valarie finally awoke and took notice of what noticed, chuckling. "Like what you see?"

"Oh yes, I do. I quite like these overalls, the style they give off. I'll be sure to invest in my own pair back on the ship."

"And I bet it'll be handcrafted by some super-talented tailor with the highest quality denim."

Madison went red. "Alright, you comedian. I'm okay to wear this for now, yeah?"

"Sure!"

Madison checked herself on a mirror and began to brush her hair to get it all neat. "So, what's the plan today?"

Valarie shrugged. "I dunno. The days leading up to the weekend I was just solely thinking of home that I didn't think of anything else."

"Hmm," muttered Madison, bringing a finger to her chin. Then, she too shrugged. "I got nothing either."

Valarie looked out the window of her room, seeing the outside world where it gave her some inspiration. "Come with me, I got something to show you."

Eager, Madison followed Valarie out of her room and to the backyard. There was a simple patio with associated furniture with an overhang to provide shade from the heat. Beyond the patio was grass, yellowed from years of sun exposure, where it then abruptly stopped after several yards. It was replaced by harsh terrain composed of a mix of gravel and sand, stretching out to infinity. Scattered about were resilient desert bushes, all in brown or gray colors. They were alive, though Madison found it hard to believe as her perceptions of plant life was vibrant and green. Here, it looked like behind Valarie's home was a sea of dead plants, and yet, there was still a certain beauty with it. Beyond all this were the distant mountains, arid and a bit hazy. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and with careful hearing, they could the buzzing of beetles flying about. The Mojave Desert was literally Valarie's backyard, its majesty gripping Madison tight.

"Absolutely stunning. To think that all of this is your backyard." Madison remarked, voice with awe.

"HmmHmm," Valarie hummed, filled with pride and face sporting a beaming smile. "This view is worth more than all the money in the world. I truly love the desert. Yeah, this place isn't Los Angeles, San Francisco, or San Diego, but it's home. And now, it's your home too."

Madison placed a hand on her eye to wipe something away. "Valarie, you're about to make your half-sister cry here."

Upon making that comment, Valarie turned to place gently grip both of Madison's hand. "Half-sister is too wordy to my taste. Just say sister. That's what I am?"

"Oh god...here I go."

For the second day in a row, Madison teared up but this time around managed to compose herself not long after. She inhaled sharply. "Alright, so, I'm wearing your clothes, soaked in the beauty of the desert, and now cried again. What's next on the agenda?"

Behind them flowed the smile-inducing aroma of sizzling bacon.

"Breakfast?" Valarie suggested.

"Breakfast."

The two girls returned to the house where a fresh and hot breakfast greeted them. It went swimmingly with their time filled with small talk exchanged by the entire family. Once all the plates were put away, though, Valarie's dad then dropped a question that caused the girls to flinch.

"Do you come from wealth, Madison?"

"Hmm?" Madison hummed, blinking at him.

"Is your family wealthy?"

"Um, we're, ah, we're comfortable."

"Comfortable," Valarie's dad repeated, slightly grinning. "Must be, considering the car you drive."

"My car?"

"Yeah, a 2014 Mercedes-Benz S-class, isn't it?"

"...Well, um, you sure do know your luxury cars."

"When your job at times has you transporting such cars to dealerships all over the place, you tend to know all the models. Now, unless you bought the car yourself, it begs the question. what do your parents do?"

Madison breathed in and out. "My dad is in the navy and my mom...works...in the movie industry." She hoped that her vague answers would be enough to satisfy them, but the questions kept coming.

"Dad's in the navy, huh?" Valarie's mom remarked. "Seems like father and daughter have a love for the sea. what does he do in the navy?"

"He's a rear admiral serving in the U.S Sixth Fleet. He commands the submarine force over there."

Madison was vastly more comfortable with talking about her dad rather than her mom, as the latter would invariably lead to talking about the family's overall wealth. Still, merely stating her dad's rank and his job drew expressions of surprise from all of the, even from Valarie. Though she was aware that her dad held a high rank in the Navy, knowing so little about this branch of the military, that she didn't understand just how _high_ it was. High enough to not only command one submarine, but task force full of them.

"Wow, your dad sure has one hell of a job," Valarie's dad commented. "A rear admiral, well, I'll be damned. Where is he now?"

"On deployment. Where exactly? I don't know, he's not allowed to share."

"Understandable. Now, tell us about your mom. What exactly does she do in the movie industry...and we are talking about Hollywood, are we?"

"Yes, Hollywood," Madison said with a bit of stifled apprehension. "She...she helps makes movies by...telling the actors what to do."

Valarie's parents looked at her funny.

"So," Valarie's mom said. "She's a director?"

"Yeah, a director," Madison said plainly. No point in trying to dance around it anymore. "A Hollywood movie director."

"Would we recognize her name?"

"Well, does the name Scarlet Force ring any bells?"

"Scarlet Force?" Valarie's dad echoed with his voice having a flavor of excitement. "Your mom is _the_ Scarlet Force?"

"The very one."

"Oh...man!" Valarie's dad exclaimed. "She directed one of my favorite movies, the one about the battle of Stalingrad. Man, did she capture just how_ brutal_ that battle was. The intense room-to-room firefights, the tank factory pumping out tanks from the factory floor right into the front lines, still in their red primer. And then there was the dramatic moment of Hitler promoting Paulus to Field Marshall. Why it was dramatic because—"

"Because at no point in German or Prussian history has a Field Marshall ever surrendered, so by doing this, Hitler expected Paulus to fight to the last man, or commit suicide." Madison interrupted.

Valarie's dad looked at her amazed. "Yeah...yeah exactly!"

"I was on set from time to time when she directed that movie." Madison explained

"Just an all-round perfect war movie," Valarie's dad went on. "We have a DVD of it...somewhere."

"Wait, we have that movie?" Valarie then asked. "How come I never seen it?"

"Maybe because I didn't want you to see the graphic scene of a German soldier being hacked to death by Soviet soldiers with trench shovels. That movie sure did earn its 'R' rating."

"I appreciate that dad, I really do."

"Well, since you are older now—"

"No thank you, I can picture that scene in my mind and I don't like it."

Valarie's parents were still reeling in from what Madison has explained to them. "Wow, a rear admiral and a movie director. Say, how did the two meet? I wouldn't think that their jobs would ever bring them even remotely together." Valarie's mom inquired.

"My mom was working on a naval movie back in 1993 where my dad served as an military advisor to keep things accurate. By the end of production, they were already dating, and then married a year later."

"Wow, a romantic story like that could make for...a good movie, wouldn't you say?

They shared a laugh. Once the fun moment came to an end, they went about the house doing their own things to occupy their morning. Madison soon found herself with Valarie's mother. It prompted her to ask a question. "Valarie tells me you're a welder."

"I am one alright. A pretty good one, if I say so myself."

"Welding...is not really a job women typically do."

"Yeah, I am the only woman in the shop I work at."

"Anyone gave you any trouble, if I can ask?"

"Once. I made sure he never gave me any trouble again. He still has a limp."

"Ah...I see. What made you go into welding in the first place?"

"In high school I took up a welding class because it was different from all the other electives. Through this class, you could get licensed as a welder so I did. After graduation, I went into the trade."

"Mojave Rose has welding classes?"

"Used to. Valarie tells me they don't have them anymore. A shame."

"That is a shame, I bet Valarie would've done them in a heartbeat, just to be like you."

"Oh yeah, she definitely would." Valarie's mom said with a laugh.

"So, does Valarie have any aunts or uncles around here?"

"...No...No uncles near here. And she doesn't have any aunts. None at all" Valarie's mother answered, her face becoming somewhat serious which made Madison slightly unnerved. Wanting to change the subject, Valarie's mom went to a nearby closest and fetched her welder's jacket and handed it to Madison. It was big and bulky, colored a light brown. Madison put it on and found that it was quite heavy as it was composed of material that could withstand high heat and sparks of metal that'll inevitable land on it. Then, she was handed the face shield. Putting it on, she found her field of vision heavily restricted and tinted black.

"Fit for a shift," Valarie's mother commented. "All you're missing is the torch, though that's at work."

"I feel...badass."

"I know right!?

Madison enjoyed dressing up as a welder for some minutes as Valarie's mother explained all the inner-workings of the trade and more personal stories. After that, Valarie's father sought her out and asked her to follow him outside. There, Madison was shown the big-rig truck that he drives for work. Up close, the vehicle was bigger than she thought. It was painted a warm yellow and looked like it was a newer model, certainly made in this century. The door to the cab was opened and Madison was helped inside. In the driver's seat, she was overwhelmed by the controls before her.

"How in the world do you drive this thing?" she wondered

"Lots of learning," Valarie's dad told her. "Though, it's simple when you get the hang of it," he passed her the keys. "Go for it."

"Huh?!"

"Don't worry, you're not driving the thing. Just turn it on and feel the power of the engine."

Excited, Madison inserted the key into the ignition but nothing happened when she turned it.

"No way, did I break it?"

Valarie's dad laughed. "No, not at all! You're depressing the brake to help start the truck when it's actually the clutch."

"Right...the...clutch."

"The peddle all the way on the left."

Pressing down on the right peddle this time, Madison got the truck started, the roar of the engine startling her, its power slightly vibrating her seat. She placed her hands on the steering wheel and pictured herself driving on a long stretch of highway hauling a load to some far off destination. Valarie's dad explained to her all the functions of the dashboard and then shifted her attention behind the seat. Here was a bed where he slept during his trips, overhead air conditioning, a small folding table attached to a wall to function as a desk, and a small fridge to keep a small amount of fresh food and cold drinks. It was like a mini-dorm and made her slightly jealous. She wishes her car had things like this.

"It's all pretty good, as far as living in trucks go." Valarie's dad continued.

"This place isn't bad at all. Minimalist living at its best."

"Heh, that's one point of view."

The truck was shut off and Madison was helped off. She was shown the rear of the machine, where he explained how trailers are attached along with what function those big, swirly, cables served. It was then Valarie joined them outside.

"Madi, Emma texted me and wanted to know if we're willing to meet her at a local place."

"Sure...if you're parents don't mind us taking off."

"Nah, go on ahead you two," Valarie's dad told them. "Enjoy yourselves!"

Excitedly, the two sisters piled in Madison's car and were off.

"Where are we going?" Madison asked.

"There's an arcade not too far from here. I'll tell you all the turns."

"It'll be easier to go off the GPS on my phone," Madison said. She checked her pockets and the made the realization. "Damn, that's right. I changed clothes. My phone is still in my other clothes. Ah, whatever."

"Guess you'll have to rely on me then. I won't get us lost. I do live here, ya know."

Being directed by Valarie, they reached the arcade in a matter of minutes. There, they saw Emma waiting at the front door, face beyond eager. Parking, they quickly got to her. Valarie and Emma hugged immediately.

"Did it go well?" Emma asked.

"In everyday possible."

"Fantastic!"

"Hmm, you know, I never been to an arcade before. Or really played video games." Madison admitted.

Emma looked at her with shocked eyes and walked right up to her. "Really? Then we have to fix that!"

Emma raced into the arcade with the others trying to keep up. Inside the dimly lit building, Emma pondered over what machine would be Madison's first experience. She spotted a cabinet that filled her with glee and grabbed Madison by the hand to lead her right to it.

"Oh man, you've got to play this! It's a classic!"

Emma popped in a quarter and on the screen Madison was presented with the most simplest depictions of rocks with a triangle object right in the center. Moving the joystick moved this object around and pressing a button fired a dot from it. It was all in black-in-white.

"What...what is this?"

"Asteroids!" Emma exclaimed. "Go on, shoot the asteroids!"

Madison did so and got some points before getting a game over not long after. "Huh. I thought video games were a bit more advanced than this."

"It is from 1979."

"I see. Well, it had to start somewhere."

"Oh, man, you don't even know about the games people made with old radar equipment, Tennis For Two if you didn't know."

"I didn't. Are you a video game historian or something?"

"I..." Emma said before blushing. "I love the retro stuff. Come one, I'll show you more!"

Emma proceeded to give Madison history lessons on damn near every machine this arcade owned, with Valarie right behind, relishing the passion Emma exuded. This was an aspect of her that she absolutely loved.

"Mario was originally named Jump man," Emma shared. "Speaking of Mario, you ever heard of speedrunning?"

"No? I'm going to guess running isn't actually involved.

"Nope. It beating a game as fast as possible. The original Super Mario Bros. is kinda the most popular game to speedrun. Some people can beat the game in just a matter of minutes. I've seen some videos and, god, their movement is unreal. It gets real technical too, with frame rules and all."

"I'm familiar with Super Mario but...not at all with frame rules."

"Okay, imagine a bus that arrives at the end of a level..."

Emma continued sharing with Madison all the gaming knowledge she has, recited perfectly from memory. They all played more games, with Emma tutoring Madison on what to do so that she can have fun. Before they knew it, hours have gone by as they all enjoyed the virtual fun this place had to offer. They took a break and sat at some benches inside, drinking sodas, when Emma then caught sight of a familiar machine.

"Valarie," she said, pointing. "Remember that one?"

Looking to where Emma pointed, Valarie grinned. "Oh, I do."

She got up and headed straight for it, with Emma and Madison following quickly behind. The game that Emma pointed out was the tank simulator the T-44 crew played several months ago.

"Let's see if we still have the high score," Valarie said. She peaked in the 'tank' to look at the screen where the high scores were being displayed. She gasped. "We don't have it anymore! We're in second!"

"What? Who took it from us!?" Emma exclaimed

Getting to the screen herself, Emma read the name of who now held the highscore.

_Juniper_

"You know what, I don't think I want boys in tankery anymore." Emma remarked, arms crossed.

"Ray..." Valarie muttered. Then, a small laugh and wave of determination filling her and turned to face Emma. "Heather and Ashley is in town, yeah?"

"They are."

"Call them in," Valarie ordered. Her mood as shifted to like she was now working, the tone of her voice identical to when they were at their matches. Emma dutifully complied and sent out the texts.

"What's happening?" Madison asked.

"We're going to take back our high score. My co-captain has taken it from us. Gotta fix that."

Within half an hour, Heather and Ashley arrived at the arcade and promptly made their way to the tank simulator.

"Who the hell stole our highs score?" Ashley demanded.

"Ray and his crew. They have double our points." Valarie told them.

"Then we triple theirs." Heather declared.

The T-44 crew got to their positions in the 'tank' and started playing immediately. Madison watched amazed as they tore through the game at blisteringly speeds, not getting hit a single time and eliminating every enemy they come across with extreme efficiency. This was the result of months of experience in the sport that honed their skills, making them _very_ proficient at the game. It wasn't long before they reached the final boss, the Panzer IV Ausf. H. The T-44 vividly remembered how they beaten it before and repeated it again, more efficient than ever before. Just seconds into their duel, the Panzer IV was in ruins, its turret popped off due to it being hit in the ammo stowage. Flames roared from the hull. The screen the proclaimed the girls Heroes of the Soviet Union, where they all reclined in their seats.

"I...I think I blacked out. We finished the game already?" Valarie remarked, surprised.

"Yup," Ashley told her. "Man, we got 'S' rank after 'S' rank on each mission and a perfect boss fight at that! Surely, we have to have the highs score!"

The screen changed to show them their scores. They didn't triple Ray and his crew's score. Nor did they quadruple, or quintuple it. It was ten times bigger. They had crushed_ Juniper's_ score.

"Damn right." Valarie uttered. She inputted their name to attach to their new score.

_Oasis . . . 10,987,454_

"Mission accomplished," Heather proudly proclaimed. "I dare them to try and beat that."

The girls got out of the game and stretched their legs

"Okay, I've only started playing video games today, but I think I can safely say that the game you guys played has been thoroughly beaten." Madison said

"Yeah, it'll stay for a good long while. Maybe even forever." Emma responded.

"It was nice guys, but we gotta head to our homes now." Ashley said to them.

"It's fine. Thanks for helping out on this superbly important task." Valarie said.

They bid their goodbyes and Heather and Ashley departed. Valarie, Emma and Madison continued to remain at the arcade where they played more games. When it neared six in the evening, they decided it was time to go home themselves. Emma was dropped off at her home and as the sun started to set, Valarie and Emma returned to theirs. They felt pleasantly exhausted and looked forward to lounging on the bed together watching TV until sleep overtook them. In Valarie's room, Madison went to her clothes on the floor and dug out her phone. It was then she saw something that concerned her. Seventeen missed calls from Alice.

"Shit...this can't be good."

"What?" Valarie wondered.

"Alice tried to call me, _a lot_. When she wants my attention this bad, it's never good."

"You gotta call her back and find out what's happening."

"Right," Madison said with a sigh. She called Alice and after a few rings was greeted with a shout. "WHERE ARE YOU."

"God!" Madison yelped, rubbing her ears. "I'm with Valarie and her parents at their home. What's up?"

"The ship is WAITING for you both to return. All new and returning students are already on board!"

"But the supplies? They normally take all weekend to load?"

"Yeah, they decided to forgo supplies and take in double than normal when we reach port in Germany. They _really_ want Viola, Madi. Like real bad."

"Man me too, but...I was hoping to spend the weekend here."

"Madi, I'm sorry, I really am, but you two have to return to the ship ASAP. Administration is pissed at you, you know, of this delay of departure."

"Yeah? I'm pissed too. I wanted to spend the weekend here with my family and administration just fucks me over. Assholes."

"Sorry Madi...you two should get going. Don't make administration more mad than they are."

"...We're going. See you soon."

Madison ended the call and sighed the heaviest of sighs.

"What's wrong?" Valarie asked. She stood some distance away from the call to give Madison privacy.

"We have to go back to the ship. It's about to depart and is waiting for us."

"What?" Valarie uttered, crestfallen. "I-I thought we'd get the weekend."

"Yeah...me too."

Dejected, the girls got their things in order and went to the living room and shared the news with their parents. They too had looks of disappointment on their faces, but what was happening couldn't be helped. Before they left, they all hugged. For Madison, being hugged by Valarie's dad and mom felt otherworldly amazing.

"We love you, Madison. It's a real shame you have to go so soon, but you'll return. We know you two will." Valarie's dad told her.

"I love you to...dad."

"Now go, I don't want you to see me cry."

Valarie and Madison got to the car where it was turned on. Before Madison could drive off, she was asked a question.

"Why does the school want to leave so badly? Is something going on?" Valarie inquired

"It all relates to Kaiser Wilhelm the Second." Madison answered in the most plain voice she could manage.

Valarie's face was never most confused as the car drove on, out of Barstow, and right back to Long Beach. Back to the sea.


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mojave Rose teams makes full steam toward Germany, where their next match in the internationals will take place later in the month.
> 
> But who are they fighting?

_Sunday August 4th, 2013_

_At Sea_

Irritated and annoyed. Not even the blue shimmering seas could assuage Valarie's displeasure at being back on the ship and traveling so soon. She had expected the whole weekend back home to spend some time with her parents that she dearly missed but it was frustratingly cut short. She was at her apartment, lounging on a chair on her balcony looking out toward the ocean. The moment her and Madison set foot on the ship, it immediately departed and moved as fast as a vessel of such immense size could manage. They were already in the open ocean, with land no where in sight, moving post haste toward the Panama Canal to enter the Atlantic. Behind her was the sound of a sliding door being open, as Emma walked up to her.

"Upset?"

Valarie didn't turn to look at her. "I am."

"The whole team is," Emma informed. "The message to return to the ship was so sudden. It interrupted a lot of things for people. Restaurant outings, dates, spending time with family."

"I feel that last part."

"What a way to get to know this administration. Hopefully it's just a poor first impression. Hey, got any idea why we left so suddenly?"

"Something about Kaiser Wilhelm."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, I don't get it either. Madison hasn't fully explained. She likes to tease me."

There was then a knock at the door.

"The teasing stops, I guess." Valarie said.

She opened the door and it was who she guessed. Madison.

"Hey. Why are we leaving for Germany in such a big damn hurry?" Valarie inquired.

Madison welcomed herself in Valarie's apartment and sat in the sofa, reclined and let out a sigh. "Viola Wilhelm."

Valarie and Emma exchanged glances.

"Who...who's she?" Emma asked. "Some artist? An sculptor? Oh! Maybe even an actor?"

"She's the great-great-great grandniece of Kaiser Wilhelm the Second, last German Emperor during the seminal tragedy that is the First World War."

The girls stared at her for several solid seconds in silence.

"...What?" Valarie finally uttered.

"A German princess?" Emma remarked with a surprised gasp. "I didn't know Germany still has a Royal Family like in the U.K."

"Not officially," Madison said. "Not since the adoption of the Wiemar Constitution in 1919 that stripped the titles and privileges of the German nobility. Better than what happened to the Tsar and his family when Russia decide they didn't wanted nobles anymore."

Again, Emma and Valarie stared at her for a few seconds.

"Ah," Madison uttered. "I learned all when looking into Viola. Anyway, though Germany doesn't officially have any nobles, they are still people today who have family tied to it and Viola is indeed one of them."

"So, what I'm getting at is that Viola wants to attend Catalina, which is why the ship is moving like hell to get her. Can't she just...come here herself?" Valarie asked.

"Oh man, would that be so perfect. We're just on her shortlist unfortunately."

"So you gotta compete for her, then?"

"Yeah..." Madison sighed the heaviest of sighs. "It'll be an effort and half, but if we can get her to attend, it'll all be worth it." She then stood up, eyes fixed forward. "It has just occurred to me that Viola would very much appreciate being spoken to in German. Possibly doesn't know English at all. I don't know a word of German."

"That's a bit of a problem, isn't it?"

"Heh, none of you would happen to know German, would you?" Madison asked, half-jokingly.

"No," Valarie responded, a grin forming on her face. "But I do know someone who does."

* * *

In their home on the ship, Buchanan was in the bedroom taking a look of herself on the mirror. She paid particular attention to her stomach and was delighted to see a noticeable bump. She placed her hands and caressed her stomach. Even three months into her pregnancy, she still couldn't quite believe it.

"Twins," she whispered. "I'm carrying twins. Holy shit."

She looked at herself for several more moments to relish it, when she then returned to lay in bed with Redwood, her husband-to-be. It was without a doubt a lazy Sunday and though the pair hasn't done much today, were already feeling tired. Just a product of their age. Buchanan especially was feeling fatigued. Earlier in the morning she was hit with a wave of nausea that nearly compelled her to vomit. She had that bitter taste in her mouth that tends to serve as a warning that her breakfast was about to be suddenly expunged from her stomach. She rushed to the bathroom but thankfully, nothing came out. For today, at least, she wouldn't be vomiting. She then felt this other sensation that was increasing in strength.

"I'm hungry," she uttered. "Like, really hungry."

"Hmm?" Redwood muttered, partially asleep.

"I'm craving brownies. A real bad craving."

"Luckily for you, I saw a box of brownie mix in the pantry," Redwood rose from the bed. "I'll bake some for you."

"No, don't bake them. Just mix everything up and bring up the bowl."

"...You want to eat the batter? The uncooked batter?" Redwood was somewhat perplexed but soon realized that this was the weird pregnancy cravings that all expecting mothers get.

"I do," Buchanan affirmed. "I want that batter so damn bad!"

"Alright, alright. I'll make it for you."

Before he could get out of the room, he received another request from her.

"Oh, and a glass of pickle juice."

"Come again?"

"Pickle juice. I'm craving that too which is weird 'cause I normally don't eat pickles."

"Okay. So a bowl of brownie batter with a glass of pickle juice on the side. You wait right here while I prepare your gourmet meal."

Redwood went downstairs to get what Buchanan craved. As she waited, she tapped the bed repeated to grab the attention of Soap, the white cat she spontaneously adopted from the garage back in Barstow. She accustomed well to this new life on a ship. Soap rose from carpet, soaking up the rays of the sun, and hopped right up with Buchanan. She rested her head against her stomach. What Buchanan found interesting as that Soap was way more affectionate with her ever since she got pregnant and she didn't complain one bit. With her little feline friend all nested up with her, Buchanan then grabbed the remote on the nightstand next to her and switched on the TV in the room. She flipped through channels before settling on a news channel, currently on the sports segment. There was only one sport specifically she wanted to hear about.

_"The smell of gunpowder is in the air! The world tankery tournament is well underway and for this segment, we've got a lot to say. First! How do they do it? How teams move their tanks from their schools to matches. Next, a ride-along with a recovery vehicle crew. See this in-depth look of this behind-the-scenes job. Finally. Coalition teams. This tournament has them. Find out who."_

When the segment started and came to a close, Buchanan didn't hear a word of it. She fallen asleep, only awaken later when she felt a soft nudge on her shoulder.

"Do you still want your...meal?" Redwood asked.

Buchanan glanced toward the nightstand and saw a bowl and a glass that was filled with a greenish liquid that emanated a strong odor. She reached for it and took a sip, right before gulping it down.

"Somehow," Buchanan said, placing the empty glass down. "That tasted heavenly."

She then grabbed the bowl of brownie batter and with a spoon ate right from the bowl. Buchanan watched, grinning, clearly, amused.

"You're gonna get all sorts of cravings, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Buchanan remarked with a mouthful of batter. "It's gonna get all weird."

* * *

"A little adjustment here...and a little there..."

At least one member of the team was somewhat enjoying her time back on the ship. Mia, commander of the M5 Stuart, was out on her balcony tinkering with her most prized possession; a high-grade telescope. Though it was the afternoon and the day bright, there was still something in the sky worth studying, and since was broad daylight, there was really only one heavenly body that could be observed. The sun.

On her telescope, Mia attached special equipment to make solar viewing as safe as possible, but to go an extra step, wore sunglasses as well. Once all the adjustments were made, she peered through the eyepiece and was met with a gorgeous sight. The Sun, viewed under the special equipment, had this yellow-orangish color with some waviness on it, a clear sign that the surface was rife with tumultuous activity. Sunspots were seen, black blemishes on the surface that looked tiny compared to the gargantuan size of the Sun, but they themselves would dwarf the Earth if they were right next to the planet.

"Can I see?" Erin asked, the Stuart's loader.

The entirety of Mia's crew were in her apartment hanging around and being entertained by the telescope.

"Sure," Mia replied. "Just wear these sunglasses to be on the safe side."

Doing so, Erin got on the telescope and let out a soft 'ooo' upon seeing the Sun in a way that didn't hurt her eyes. "Very pretty...hey I think I saw a solar flare!"

"I wouldn't think that using a telescope on a ship would actually be possible." remarked Mary, driver of the Stuart.

"On a smaller ship, no," Mia told her. "Those kinds of ships sway too much in the waves, making accurate astronomical observation impossible. But because these school ships are so damn huge, they're stable, which makes star-gazing not only possible, but ideal! So far away from light pollution on land, the best place to study space is on school ships. NASA has some observatories on school ships and the images they get is the best! Also, SETI has some equipment on ships too..."

"Cool, cool," Olivia noted, the gunner. "Say, guys, where are we going?"

"Back to Europe," Mia answered. "Though I don't know exactly where."

Elsewhere in the apartment complex, Natalie was in the halls walking to a particular door. Arriving, she knocked but came no response.

"Hmm."

She knocked again, this time harder, but again was only met with silence.

"Ray. What are you up to this time?"

Having an inkling as to where he was, Natalie made her way outside. At the entrance of the complex was a courtyard of grass, neatly trimmed and wonderfully healthy, with palm trees evenly spaced about. She spotted him knelt by a tree. Natalie head right for him.

"What-" Natalie was stopped from speaking with the strong odor of fish and spices. "What in the world are you doing, Ray?"

"Experimental archaeology," he told her. Ray packed tuna fish tightly at the bottom of a clay pot.

"What's with the fish and the spices?" Natalie questioned. "The smell...is overwhelming."

"I'm making garum, a popular fish sauce from the ancient world. The Romans loved this stuff and paid a lots of money for the high grade sauce. You put fish, then spices, and then top them both with a heavy layer of salt. Repeat the process 'till you fill up your container."

Ray reached for his spies, garlic, rosemary, cloves, and chili powder, and packed them on top the tuna. Then he poured salt covering them all. This was repeated until the clay pot was filled. He tightly placed a cap on it.

"Alright, you're making fish sauce. I'm partly curious," Natalie said. "You gonna take it back to your apartment now?"

"No, no, there's a reason why I'm doing this outside. The fish has to ferment."

"...Ferment?"

"Yeah! That's how the Romans did it. They left pots like that outside so that the sun would ferment the fish into a liquid."

"God Ray, that pot is gonna stink!"

"It will but the end result will be great! Garum supposedly tastes very good!"

"Supposedly..." Natalie repeated. "Okay, how long will this take for it to be ready?"

"I'm doing it relatively quick, so about a month?"

"A...a month! A month is quick?"

"The better Garum recipes take longer."

"This pot will stay outside for a month?"

"Yep. Has to be like that." Ray then tied the pot securely to the tree with a rope. Next, he wrote a message on the pot with a marker saying to others not to disturb it. "Now we wait. I'll be sure to bake some Roman bread to go with the sauce."

"Do you have anything to eat that won't take a month to prepare?"

"Don't you know who I am?" Ray questioned with a smirk.

"I guess it was a silly question. Can we go to your place and share a meal?"

"Of course," Ray said, extending a hand expecting it to be held.

"Uh, no, you're gonna wash your hands when we get to your place. I can smell the fish, spices, and salt from here."

"Oh, alright. By the way, how's the stomach?"

"Sore. Thanks to you."

Ray smiled at her, somewhat wickedly. "Think of it as a trial run of things to come."

The day drew on, the ship traveled that much closer Europe. The Mojave Rose tankery team were enjoying their Sunday the best way they can considering that they were suddenly recalled to the ship. No one was in real mood to actually go out and about the town, they were much more content to staying inside. This was absolutely true in Valarie's case as she has spent most of the day in her bed, on her laptop doing some reading. Madison was with her, though she did leave briefly, returning with her own computer and some papers.

"One of the many benefits of having your sister as the student council president, with all the abilities the position entails, is that I can get you your ideal schedule."

Madison sat with Valarie on the bed and on her laptop, brought up Valarie's info on the school's system. Valarie looked at the opportunity laid before her and with a huge smile, seized it.

"I want me and Emma to have the same classes. I always wanted us to have the same schedule back in Mojave Rose but it never happened. Now, we can be together all day."

"Oh, the two lovers in the same classes. Yes ma'am, that can certainly be arranged."

"What else is there?"

"Ah, the mandatory classes, you know? English, science, math, et cetera," Madison then paused. "Hmm, say's here you did chemistry last semester. Wanna take AP Chemistry?"

Valarie looked at her right in her eyes. "I. Would. Rather. _Die._"

"O-okay," Madison said, slightly taken aback. "You still need to take a science class. We got astronomy, biology, anatomy, meteorology—"

"Meteorology?" Emma then asked from another room. She rushed to join them. "There's a meteorology class in an art school?"

"We're still a private high school after all, so we go above and beyond in our general education classes."

Emma turned to Valarie with an eagerness in her eyes. "Take meteorology with me, Valarie! You know how much I love it when it rains. Besides, knowing a bit more about the weather can be helpful in our matches."

With a smile, Valarie glanced toward Madison. "Sign us up for weather class."

"Done," Madison said with a few taps of her keyboard. "That's your science class. The rest of your general ed classes will be chosen automatically based on previous performance. Now, normally, you'd be required to take an elective but tankery covers that quite well, so don't worry about that. There is also these special weekend classes. They aren't part of your schedule, you just sign up for a session. They teach a different thing every weekend that gives people basics in art disciplines."

"What kind of art disciplines?" Valarie asked curiously.

"Everything under the creative sun," Madison said. She picked up a paper that had the content Valarie desired. "Ceramics, glass glowing, marble sculpting..." she stopped when she read one discipline in particular that made her grin. "There's also welding...among many other things.

"Welding," Valarie echoed with fascination. "That I will definitely check out."

Madison worked a bit on her laptop, then finally closed it and set it aside. "Valarie Woodlin and Emma Gray, you two are officially now incoming juniors of Catalina School of the Arts."

Valarie let out a breath of amazement. "I would have never expected in a million years that I'd ever attend a private school, even if only for the duration of the internationals. Tuition to this place must be pricey."

"Like you wouldn't believe," Madison told her. "And you and your team have it all for free. Amazing what tankery can do for you."

"Speaking of tankery," Valarie mentioned. She reached for the radio nearby and switched it on. The three girls listened closely as the radio tuned to 104.3 FM.

_"—and that is what we have to say regarding prototype tanks. Remember, listeners, just because a tank was a prototype, does not mean that it was good. Moving on to the internationals, we got some info for you all. Next Saturday is when the Iranian and Greek teams are to face off in the Czech Republic. From what we can gather, all signs point to an entertaining and close match as the betting odds favors no team in particularly...betting which this station totally does not endorse. Later on in the month, our sights turn to a national forest in Germany where the United States will combat New Zealand. We managed to get some words from the New Zealand's team ace gunner. And by 'we', we mean the BBC. They have the resources folks. Not us. Onto the clip!_

"_Snipin' a good job mate. It's challenging work, outta doors, and I can guarantee it'll never get boring. 'Cause at the end of the day, as long as they're two tanks left on the field, someone is gonna want someone shot. And lemme tell ya, it won't be me in someone's crosshairs. I'll getcha and your mates from halfway 'round the world."_

_"That there was the voice of Isla Campbell from Port Chalmers High School. She is the exceptional gunner of an M36 Jackson tank destroyer. A mean thing with a 90mm cannon. It has been confirmed that Miss Campbell has an mind-blowing 93% accuracy with the gun, even at its maximum range of around 4200 meters. Let's hope the Americans have some snipers of there own."_

"She's a bit boastful, ain't she?" Emma remarked.

"No kidding," Valarie said. "A sniper like that is going to be really annoying to deal with. Any open spaces will be terrifying to traverse."

"But you'll think of something, yeah?"

"Sure...sure."

Madison cleared her throat. "Not to interrupt or anything, but when will I meet the person who knows German?"

"Tomorrow," Valarie said to her. "During out meeting."

_Monday_

Getting back to the grove of things, the Mojave Rose team were in the garage tending to their machines. Among the things they were doing, the destroyed tablets some crews experienced during the Spanish match were by now repaired and now, all the tablets on the team were fitted with near-impervious protective cases that looked like they would stop a bullet. Over at the AMR 35, Cassidy was adding a nice decoration to her tank. Tied to the barrel of the 25mm gun was a white flag with a bright blue 'W' on it.

"See this Nathan?" she said proudly. "This is what makes our tank stand apart. With this flag, how can we lose?"

"The Cubs have been doing that pretty well, for like a million years."

"...You don't have to go that far." Cassidy remarked sadly.

Nearby, the Cromwell crew were looking at their tank, deep in thought. They improved their uniforms, why not their tank as well? As they pondered what they can do to make the tank better, they were startled when Sage snapped her fingers, her eyes wide.

"You know what this tank needs?" she asked aloud. "Rockets!"

"Uhh, what?" uttered Ivy, the Cromwell's driver.

"I've been doing some reading," Sage said, pacing around the tank. "And I found that tanks like the Cromwell were fitted with two rockets on either side of the turret. They had a 60-pound warhead that messed up real good whatever it hit. Now the accuracy isn't great, but I think the opportunity of sending an enemy tank right to hell is worth it!"

The rest of crew contemplated her idea for a second and immediately after accepted it with glee. The Cromwell crew then went before Buchanan to request RP-3 'Tulip' rockets, who happily accepted.

As the team went about their duties, Valarie fetched Natalie and brought her over to the T-44 where Madison was waiting.

"Okay, so, I'm only partially filled in. I know you want me as a sort of translator, yeah?" Natalie questioned.

"Indeed I do," replied Madison. "The question is, how strong is your German?"

"Strong, and getting stronger by the day. I've recently been brushing up on it. I can hold my own with native speakers with relative ease."

"That's perfect!" Madison exclaimed. "Oh, I can see you fulfilling the role perfectly!"

"Thanks. Now...what are the specifics? How will I be talking to?"

"Just a descendant of Kaiser Wilhelm the Second, no one major."

Natalie stared at her, eyes blinking. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Not at all. Oh, don't worry, I doubt you'll have any trouble. From what I hear about her, she's quite down to earth...though, she can be kinda posh at times. Ah, you'll do great. I'll give you more details when the meeting approaches."

"What the hell did I just agree too..." Natalie sighed as she returned to her machine.

Remaining at the T-44, Madison hopped on the machine and reclined. "Ahh, with a translator secured, I can rest a bit easy knowing that our meeting with Viola will go that more smoother."

"Aha," Valarie uttered. "… 'Our' meeting?"

"You're coming with me, Valarie."

"Um...um...are you sure?"

"Yes! C'mon, it'll be fun! Meeting a German princess! You don't even have to talk much. Natalie will be doing most of it anyway."

"It's just...I-I don't have formal clothes at all. Meeting someone like her is a formal affair."

"Don't sweat it. We'll get a nice formal outfit for you before the meeting. One that'll make Emma swoon."

"...Okay. I'll go with you," Valarie said with some reservation. "Man, I feel nervous already."

Right after she said that, Alice arrived with a tablet in hand. She approached Madison and showed her what was on her tablet, getting a smile out of her.

"In that case, let me ease off that nervousness."

Madison gestured Valarie over to the tablet and showed her what she saw. Immediately, she grinned and held the tablet in her own hands to get a better look. The rest of her crew looked on with intrigue. Yet, knowing Valarie, why she was smiling wasn't too hard to guess.

"I'm gonna throw it out there that there something with tracks on the screen, hmm?" Ashley said.

Valarie turned to her crew, with a pleased smile. "A new acquisition is on the horizon. From the land of the rising sun."


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new tank joins the Mojave Rose team as they finally arrive in Germany.

_Friday August 9th, 2013_

_Atlantic Ocean_

It felt like only yesterday that the Mojave Rose tankery team departed Europe, so it was a bit jarring to know that they'd be arriving back to the continent come tomorrow. Though their match with New Zealand wasn't until near the end of the month, they were still a lot of things between now and then. Chiefly, it was that this upcoming Monday was when classes on Catalina would start. On the past Wednesday, Catalina's campus was alive with activity as new and returning students attended orientation. Among the crowds was the Mojave Rose team. As part as Madison's offer, to continue the their education, they were permitted to attend classes on the ship. As such, they were there to receive all that they needed for the upcoming semester. Textbooks, schedules, seminars, and since Catalina was a wealthy school, also provided its students with a plethora of school supplies to ensure that every student was fully prepared for their studies. Above all, however, was the uniforms. In her apartment, Valarie was getting some things in order. On the desk in her bedroom was half a dozen textbooks that ached her arms as she carried them back home. Currently. she was checking herself out in the mirror trying out her school uniform. A bright blue long sleeve shit that covered a dress shirt with a black tie tucked within. Moving lower was a light gray skirt. For shoes, they looked deceptively simple. Black flats that judging from the material, were an expensive pair. In all, Valarie decided not to entertain the thought of how much this uniform cost the school to have. Nonetheless, she looked great in the outfit. Emma shared that opinion as she couldn't stop looking at her.

"I really like you in a school uniform," Emma complimented. She was laying on the bed, stomach first, head help up by her hands. Her eyes studied Valarie again. "Like, _really _like it."

"It is pretty great, huh?" Valarie said. She tugged on her clothing to get it just right. "Wouldn't be a private school without a uniform."

"No doubt. Classes start next week and...man, I'm a bit nervous! You?"

"Totally. I'm mainly hoping the teachers are nice. I had this concern that the students at orientation would act all snobby and annoying, but all the people I've met are very down-to-earth, and kind. Some are a bit..eccentric though."

"Pretty cool bunch, hmm? Though, I did catch this one guy checking you out."

"Checking...me out?" Valarie inquired with curiosity.

"You know what I mean."

On Valarie's face was a puzzled expression. "I don't think I do."

"Um...well, he had this look on his face all guys have when they view a girl that they...want."

Valarie was naive in these sort of things. But not totally. She let out a small gasp. "Oh! Do you really think so?

"I'd know the look anywhere. I gave you that look before we got together...I still look at you that way..."

"Ah," Valarie blushed, momentarily looking away. "Guess I can expect him introducing himself at some point. Geez."

"Ha, good luck with that," Emma remarked with a chuckle. 'To change the subject, are you going to tell me about that new tank Madison and Alice showed you Monday?"

Valarie mimicked her lips being sealed. "You'll just have to wait when it arrives at the garage. It's currently at the German port the ship is heading to. After practice, it'll be at the garage."

"And what about the crew for it?"

"They're in Germany already, waiting for us to make port. Madison flew them in from home in first class, because of course she did."

"They get a taste of Germany before we do, hmm? I'm jealous."

"Yeah, they're having fun taking in the sights. Though, I am willing to bet that when they get their hands on the new tank, they'll be having more fun than ever. That thing can make things explode."

"Oh, please Valarie! Give me a hint, at least!" Emma begged.

Looking at her adorable, pleading eyes, Valarie couldn't resist and succumbed. "Oh, alright. Just for you. This tank will have the third-biggest caliber gun on the team, behind the IS-3 and SU-14."

"...That doesn't narrow it down."

"You know the tank is Japanese. That narrows it down."

"I don't have an encyclopedic knowledge of all tanks, you know!"

Valarie playfully shrugged her shoulders. "You'll just have to wait 'till tomorrow after practice when you and everyone else will see it in the metaphorical flesh."

* * *

"We've got catering booked, right?"

"Yes," Redwood told Buchanan. "They do club sandwiches. Simple things but still pretty fancy."

"Good," Buchanan noted. "...We did reserve that events center, right?"

"Um...yes? You were the one who did it."

"Oh...you're exactly right," Buchanan rubbed her face. "Sorry, I'm just nervous. Our wedding is next Saturday. Wedding..." She rose from the bed and paced around the room. "Hot damn, I'm getting married. A dream of mine actually coming true."

"It's high time such a thing happens to you," Redwood told her. He went up and hugged her from behind. "You rightly deserve all this happiness."

They shared a tender moment and went back to business.

"How's your dress coming along?"

"Oh, it's the pure definition of perfection," Buchanan remarked with a smile. "When in the shop the other day getting it fitted, oooh man, did it feel magical. It's a modest dress but I love it to death."

"I can't wait to see it on the big day."

"I can't wait for these two, either," Buchanan said warmly, touching her stomach.

_Saturday_

_Port of Hamburg, Germany_

A shot. An impact. All followed by the sound of brass hitting the floor. A fresh round was grabbed from the rack and thrusted into the breech.

"Up!"

Another shot, another impact off into the distance, and again, was there the sound of brass hitting the floor, faint smoke emanating from the spent canister from the heat of the firing, the smell of the fumes of vaporized propellant building up in the fighting compartment. The heat and smell, things the team were now well accustomed too and can totally ignore to focus on the task on hand. Valarie reached for another round on the rack, but paused. Her arms were on fire. Since practice started a few hours ago, the team elected to continue their jack-of-all-trades training. Today, Valarie was getting familiar with Ashley's role and found it exhausting.

"How...how do you keep this up?" Valarie panted. "My arms are about to give out."

"It's all about form, pacing, and well, actually working out on a regular basis." Ashley answered.

"You calling me lazy? Wanna be the captain next?"

"No, no!" Ashley exclaimed. "I don't want that job, I actually like having free time! Uhh...no offense..."

"None taken. I quite like being captain, you know. Yeah, it requires lots of time, effort, and energy, but, I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Sure, sure, but a break now and then wouldn't hurt, hmm?"

"A..break?" Valarie mused. She shook her head. "No, I don't need to take breaks. There is always something needing to be done. Especially now, with our match against New Zealand coming up."

"But that's not until way later in the month, though."

"All that time I can use for coming up with the strategy. Plus, there's the new crew to train too. Don't you worry about me. I'm already way used to this."

"Alright," Ashley acquiesced. "I guess you know yourself better than anyone else can."

Valarie gave her a nod. "Thanks. Anywho, how's the commander's seat treating you?"

"I like it. Nice change of pace with all the periscopes and other viewing devices."

"And what about you Heather?" Valarie then asked. "How's the gun?"

"I have so much _power_." Heather said with half-wicked laughter.

"Okay," Valarie said slowly. "Good...good to hear that you're doing well."

The T-44's engine then came to an abrupt stop.

"Sorry!" Emma yelled from the driver's seat. "I tried to change gears and my foot slipped from the clutch."

"That's how you ruin a transmission!" Heather scolded.

"Oh please! If it was made for a tank, then it's supposed to be tough! Tough enough to handle me!"

"Are you not aware of the phrase, 'made by the lowest bidder'?"

Elsewhere in Inspiration Park where the team conducted their practices, the Cromwell crew were together, eagerly discussing the imminent arrival of their new weapons.

"The ship docked in Germany earlier in the day. The team's new tank is already at the garage, and that's exciting. But you know what else is waiting for us?" Sage asked her crew.

"A special bouquet of flowers?" Andrea said with a sly smile, the Cromwell's loader.

"Some pretty, pretty tulips."

Nearby, the SU-100 was driving around. Trying to, anyway. Every so often, the tank destroyer would shut down before being quickly restarted.

"Well, this is the opposite of easy!" Kennedy complained. Normally the loader, she was fulfilling Lana's position for today.

"It's nothing like driving a car, huh?" remarked Nora.

"God, no it's not! The gears shift too stiffly and the markings on the gauges are all in Russian!"

"You get used to it." Lana added.

"Not being behind the gun feels...weird," Leah admitted. "I'm going to need those compression sleeves to handle all this loading."

"Oh, just hope that no one here gets knocked unconscious where you have to do their job." Nora told her.

"Gee, thanks."

Several meters away from them, the VK 30.02 M was parked. Within, Iris, the gunner, was in the front hull where a bow machine gun would've been, like the one on the that would be on the mass-produced Panther. In this position, she was staring at the Fug 5 radio equipment. She raised a hand to touch a knob, but stopped, and then hovered over a switch. She hesitated. All the dials, knobs, switches, and other bells and whistles of the FuG 5 overwhelmed her. It especially didn't help that all the labels that could have been helpful to her were all in German. She let out an exasperated sigh and flipped a switch at random. Instantly, her headphones, along with the headphones of the rest of the VK crew, heard all the chatter of the team.

"I'm a natural!" Iris exclaimed.

Practice proceeded well into the afternoon with all the members of the team getting more familiar of the roles of their friends with varied results. The weather was pleasantly warm, just shy of 80 degrees Fahrenheit. Weather that was hot for Germany, but for the desert dwellers that was the team, the temperature was perfect. As the team did what they did, Buchanan oversaw it all from the DPV. This was one of the first practices where her involvement was at a minimum. Valarie now lead them completely from, setting out the agenda, and ensuring that people focused and did what they were instructed to do. A lot has changed since last October when the team organized and got their first batch of tanks. Back then, she was doing more than what she was doing now, where she instructed all members of the team on how to operate their vehicles and most importantly, how to do tankery safely. Now, the team has earned enough experience that any new crews that join up will be taught by fellow members, rather than her. Now, her role is more administrative. She didn't mind this at all. In her seat of the DPV, she reclined back thinking fondly of the memories with a smile, when then a thought entered her mind. The one-year anniversary of the team being formed was approaching in October. It would be awful if that day went by without some sort of celebration. She started to brainstorm how to celebrate that day when she glanced at her phone and saw the time.

"Looks like we're done here," she muttered to herself. She grabbed a radio. "Everyone! Practice is now over. Good job, I sure you all worked up a sweat and all that. Return to the garage to finally meet our new addition."

The new tank was aware by the entire team, but what it was exactly wasn't know except by Valarie. With renewed energies, the team drove fast back to the garage. After twenty minutes, they had returned and parked their vehicles in an orderly fashion. All the while, there was this vehicle tantalizingly hidden by a large tarp parked at the far corner. Four people were hanging around the hidden vehicle, they being the new crew. The moment the T-44 came to a stop, Valarie burst out of the tank and near sprinted toward the new arrivals. One of the new crew members was on top of the hidden tank, knelt on it to get a feel for it, trying to figure out what it was. The girl was of African-descent, her hair natural and curly done in pony tail. On her face were thick-brimmed glasses, and around her neck something shiny. Valarie approached them all and placed her hands behind her back.

"Our new crew, I assume?" she asked them.

The girl on top the tank hopped off and went up to her. "Yeah! Man, we've been hanging around town for a bit when we then decided to come here. But when we did, the tank under the tarp was the only thing here."

"Oh, we were off doing our practice. Which is every Saturday by the way," Valarie shared. She then happened to notice what was around the girl's neck. "Ooh, what is that? It's pretty."

"Oh, this?" the girl said with a proud smile. She held up her necklace to that Valarie could see it much more clearer. "This is a piece of polished fossilized amber. But that's not the best part," she moved the necklace closer. Valarie then saw that encased within the amber were two formally alive organisms. "A prehistorical spider attacking a prehistorical wasp. Specific species names are Geratonephila and Cascoscelio incassus. It's approximately 100 million years old."

"...Woah. How in the world did you such a thing?"

"Can you believe it? I found it. A few summers ago, my family went to Montana and we visited some river. I explored around and lo and hold, just barely peaking out from the riverbed was this. Waiting for me."

"Wow, that's unbelievably cool to have something that old."

Valarie examined the piece of prehistoric jewelry closely. She saw the organisms within as if they were frozen in time, locked into combat, as if they didn't even notice that they were encased in amber. What amazed her was that she could even see, after all the years, bristles on the ancient spider and the delicate wing of the wasp.

"You like this sort of stuff, don't you?" Valarie asked her.

"Totally! Prehistoric animals are my jam! And it's not just about the dinosaurs, though I do love them, it's also the animals before them like _Anomalocaris_, _Dimetrodon_, _Eurypterid_, _Titanaboa_, and—"

"Hold on there," Valarie said, raising her hands. "Now, I'm sure you could tell me pretty much every animal that used to be alive on this planet, but we have some things to take care of. First things first, what is your name?"

"Right, right, right. I'm Aubrey. Sorry about that. When I get started on ancient animals, it's kinda hard to stop."

"Hey, we all have our passions. Now, have you taken a look at your tank yet?"

"Um, no. We saw the tarp and thought we're not supposed take it off."

"It was just a delivery thing. But that works to our advantage because now...everyone will see it for the first time together. Since its your tank, you have the honors of taking off the tarp."

Excited, Aubrey gestured to her friends to grab hold of the tarp. As they got ready to pull, the rest of the team gathered around them to see what was the new vehicle that would be serving along side them in future matches to come. Together, Aubrey and her friends took off the heavy tarp and all eyes in the garage saw their new machine. Of Japanese origin, and one of the most produced tanks Japan made during the war. At 15 tons, what the team had before them, and what Aubrey and her crew would be operating, was an Type 97 Chi-Ha medium tank. Yet it was a variant of the popular tank that was clouded with obscurity as this particular variant was made late into the war when Japan was on the clear road to defeat. Valarie climbed on the Chi-Ha and patted the gun. It wasn't the standard 47mm cannon that the normal Chi-Ha sported. Instead, this particular tank was fitted with a 120mm howitzer.

"Introducing the Type 97 Chi-Ha, 120mm Short Gun," Valarie told the team. "This tank, with its howitzer, will make things explode and make a great addition to our roster."

The team huddled around the Chi-Ha to get their eyefuls. After several minutes of eager gazing, the team were told to return to their own tanks to hang out as Valarie got the new crew settled.

"Alright, so the next step is to get roles chosen and a callsign preferably—"

"I'm the commander," Aubrey interrupted. She then pointed to her crew behind her. "Clementine will drive us around, Savanna will shoot the big gun, and Phoebe will load the shells. Our callsign is _Sidewinder_."

"Um..." Valarie uttered as she started at Aubrey for a moment. She composed herself. "Ah, okay, you got it all covered. Great! There's still more stuff you'll have to do, like uniforms and other equipment...and this!"

Valarie handed her the playbook. "You got a lot of stuff to catch up on. Oh...and you also need to get all the things needed for class Monday."

"Right. Class," Aubrey muttered. "We've been told what to do about that. Tomorrow is gonna be busy day getting up to speed on everything."

"Have fun with that. For now, get familiar with your tank. Explore every inch of it."

Without hesitation, the new Chi-Ha crew went forth and entered their new machine for the first time. Inside, they started to get well-acquainted with their tank and had much fun doing it. As the sun began the set, the team were then dismissed for the day and went back to their apartments, with the new crew getting the help they needed to get nice and settled.

_Monday_

The instant 6:30 AM arrived, Valarie's alarm blared her and Emma awake. The alarm was promptly shut off, though the girls remained in bed.

"Back to school," Emma said, her voice still weary with sleep. "Some summer vacation, hmm? Started with the national finals and now, here we are, in Germany. Amazing, isn't it?"

"That it is," Valarie responded. She got up from the bed and stretched. "What time does class start again?"

"7:40," Emma answered. "I think you went too early with the alarm."

"I don't think so. It gives us loads of time to have a proper breakfast and to shower up. Also, I want to get there early to know where the classes are."

"Good point."

The girls showered, got dressed in their school uniforms, and shared a breakfast. Once all of that was done, they prepped their backpacks and got out of their home and went outside. There, they saw the rest of the team dressed identically as they were. Among the crowd, they found Ashley and Heather and joined up with them.

"Hey, looking good with the uniforms." Valarie remarked.

"They're...alright," Ashley noted. She rolled back the sleeves. "Now they're perfect."

"My only complaint is modifying them is against the rules. I've got several ideas on how they could be way better." Heather shared.

The T-44 crew walked together toward campus. There, they saw it similarly populated with students like they saw it during orientation, thought slightly less chaotic. Here and there were groups of students together chatting among themselves as they waited for classes to formally begin. The T-44 split off as they went to learn where their classes were to be held. As Emma and Valarie had the same schedule, they remained together, much to their delight. Adding to their happiness was that during their walk around campus, they found themselves in a courtyard and within were palm trees. Upon seeing them, the girls went straight for one and sat down right next to it.

"Already like back at home," Valarie remarked with a satisfying sigh. "I already like this place."

"Same here," Emma said, resting against the tree. "This is gonna be great."

Not even a full minute at the tree, the two were then approached by a girl who seemed to have a keen interest in Valarie.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, getting both of their attention. "You," the girl pointed at Valarie. "Are you Madison's new girlfriend?"

"What?" Valarie responded with shock.

"You two are dating, right?"

"N-no?"

"Really?"

"We're not!"

"Huh. I was so sure 'cause we knew about that offer and I was certain it was because Madison had a major crush on you," the girl then scratched her head. "Hmm. Why did she have so much interest in you?"

"I'm her sister."

"As if! She's an only child."

"So was I."

The girl looked at Valarie perplexed. "Uh. Well. Sister. That's...bewildering."

"It sure was when she told me."

"Oh...man! I gotta tell my friends! Bye!"

The girl ran off and soon disappeared from view. Valarie and Emma looked at each other.

"Interesting," Valarie noted. "It seems like Madison's offer was plagued with rumors."

"I have a feeling loads of people will get confused on what is your relation with her. That's gonna be fun to explain time and time again."

"...Yeah. Fun."

They sat by the tree for some time, waiting for the first bell of the day. Emma was absentmindedly looking at her surroundings when she sighted a familiar person. She nudged Valarie.

"Hey look to your left, by those benches. But don't make it obvious."

"What?"

"That guy I told you about, the one who checked you out with golden blonde hair with strands covering his eyes. Totally dreamy. No doubt your future husband."

Emma's words were soaked with sarcasm, and caused Valarie to groan. "Oh my god, is this going to be a thing? You joking about him and me?"

"It is now."

"Geez."

Valarie cocked her head slightly to the left to look at the guy in question nonchalantly. From her peripheral, she saw him looking at her from the benches. He looked calm and determined, and then winked.

"Oh god," Valarie uttered, looking away. "He's going to make a move on me sooner or later.

"In that case, let's send him a message that you're not interested?"

"How do we—"

Her lips were interrupted by Emma's. The two kissed for several seconds, with Emma letting go soon after. Valarie looked at her totally surprised.

"Bold. Very, very bold." she told her.

"That's why I did it. Plus, I really just wanted to. Take another look at him, see his reaction."

Again, Valarie peaked at the guy. Quizzically, he had a smirk on his face. Then walked away.

"I don't know what to make of that," Valarie remarked, unsure. "I don't think he got the message."

"He did smile. Which can mean a lot of things." Emma added.

"You know what, I think that kiss was a bad idea."

"Oh? Why?" Emma asked, confused.

"I think he took what he saw as a challenge. Why else would he smile?"

"Uh, he's...supportive of gay relationships?"

"Do you really believe that?"

"I'm being optimistic here."

"Without a doubt that guy will try to 'win' me over. I can picture it in my mind and I don't like it."

"If he ever comes up to you making advances, just say you're taken. That should make him back off."

"...I hope it'll be easy."

The first bell of the day rang. The girls got up from where they stood and together, went to class. Their first day as students of Catalina School of the Arts has begun. With a new school to experience and a new tank on the team's roster, it appears that all things are going swimmingly. For Valarie, she had so many things to look forward too. One of which, though, was causing some nervousness but as she thought about it, did spark some excitement. A meeting with a princess.


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tanks, Rockets, and Weddings.
> 
> What a combination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be a change in how frequent this story is updated. It'll no longer be twice a week on Mondays/Fridays. As I am in an internship for a publishing house, I want to focus more time on that to hopefully get someplace I'm happy with. Beginning with this chapter, this story will now be updated once per week on no day in particular.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!

_August 13th, 2013_

_Golden Gate's School Ship_

_Mediterranean Sea_

The school day was in the full swing. On board Golden Gate's modern marvel that was their school ship, sailing around the Mediterranean Sea, during the lunch hour, a group of girls were holding a meeting in an unused classroom. The blinds on the windows were partially closed, only letting in the odd streak of sunlight that hit the room. Most of the girls sat in desks, paying full attention to the person standing at the front of the room with a commanding gaze. Juliana.

"I've seeked you all out and brought you here because we are all like-minded. People who have the same passions, people who fight the same fights," Juliana told them all. "There is a danger facing the sport of tankery."

One of the girls then rose to speak. "This school doesn't operate a tankery team nor is anyone here a tankery athlete. What does it mean to us if the sport is in danger?"

"Everything," Cassandra the spoke, her eyes staring directly at the girl. "What happens in tankery can and will ripple out and effect everything."

All in the room sported intrigued expressions.

"Cassandra would know," Julia went on. "She's experienced the danger first hand. Males in tankery."

"Huh?" remarked another girl in confusion. "I thought tankery was a girls only sport?"

"It should be," Cassandra said with distaste. "Unfortunately, not every one in the sport can grasp that _core _concept. They disregard the tradition that makes tankery what it is and why it is so special for women. The team representing the U.S in the internationals is a coed team. Their success in the tournament cannot be allowed as it would spell ruin for tankery, all its foundations shattered."

"Ruin in tankery would be disastrous," Juliana said. "Consider this. The sport is remarkably unique as being formed by women for women. Almost every other sport out there was started by a man and predominately played by men. Tankery was something for the fairer sex to enjoy. This violation, left to fester, will speak like an infection to other female-orientated things, ruining them as well. This infection will need to be quarantined, and subsequently eradicated."

"Fighting for women is always a noble and righteous cause, isn't it?" Cassandra then said, devilish smile on her face.

What these two girls said resonated with each and every person in the room. Though none of them participated in tankery, they were manipulated into thinking that the alleged 'danger' to the sport was an actual threat that demanded to be neutralized. They were now committed to do whatever was needed from them.

"Now, to bring you all up to speed," Juliana continued. "We have allies in this cause of ours. If you like croissants, prepare to like them even more as the captain of the French team in the world tournament has agreed to help us. Should they ever go against the American team, they will resort to any tactics necessary to beat them savagely. Nothing is off the table for them."

Excitement existed among them all.

"But we won't be waiting around for a chance encounter. We do have a mission to work on here. We'll be doing research on a particular person, the captain of the American Team, Mojave Rose. Valarie Woodlin. Having a comprehensive profile on her will better guide the things we do. Other than a few photos of her in articles, we know next to nothing about her. She has no social media to speak of so going online to research her is pointless. But, we still have an opportunity to learn about her as this ship is on its way to Germany, where she is right now. Once we arrive, you'll all be informed of our next steps."

With that, the group left the room though Cassandra lingered to speak with Juliana.

"This whole ship is really going to Germany just for Mojave Rose's captain?"

"Not solely," Julia said. "It's been planned for awhile now. Not only are we to stock up on supplies, but to also meet an important figure."

"Who?"

"A German princess."

* * *

The start of the semester at Catalina went well for the Mojave Rose Tankery team. Understandably, being a private school, the teachers there were top-notch, and thankfully, were kind and very encouraging. The facilities, too, were impressive. Impeccable kept clean and maintained vigorously. The overall student body were also pleasant enough to interact with. Though, they were some oddballs here and there, like with every other school. Yet the best aspect of all was the how the school handled homework. Taking inspiration from the Finnish, any student at Catalina had at most three hours-worth of homework assigned to them. This policy, unsurprisingly, was immediately popular with the Mojave Rose team. As less homework meant that there was more time dedicated to their tanks.

Once the school day came to and end, the team returned to their apartments, changed into their tankery uniforms, and promptly went to their meeting, now held in the afternoons. Today, the focus was getting the Chi-Ha crew more familiar with their machine and how to operate it. With the abundant amount of experienced members on the team, the Chi-Ha crew received all sorts of instructions and good advice. So much so they felt overwhelmed by all the information dropped on them. Valarie noticed this, where she then told team members to return to their respective tanks. Her own crew remained by the Chi-Ha as she went to Aubrey.

"It's a lot, ain't it?" she said with a smile.

"You got that right," Aubrey told her, leaning against the tank. The rest of the new crew were within the tank, getting to know all the controls and mechanisms. "That and the playbook you've given me to read. It's a hell of a lot of information to go through. I had to constantly look up the tanks you've mentioned just to know what you are talking about. E100. Wow. That's a scary tank."

"It was scary, but like any other tank, there's always a way to knock it out."

"That I know. That section about destroying the bridge to take that thing down is insane."

"No doubt. Now, regarding the Type 97's gun, here's what you need to know. Though the caliber is 120mm, as it is called a Short Gun, shell velocity is only 290 meters a second. Don't bother sniping, you just don't have the range. You can only fire HE shells, no AP or smoke for you sadly. Said HE rounds only have 30mm of penetration."

Aubrey looked at Valarie a bit upset. "...Got any more positives to share about this thing?"

"The tank has poor turret traverse, which is hell in tense situations. Also, since HE rounds in general have low penetration compared to AP, and with yours being only 30mm, if you come across any decently armored tank, you won't be able to knock it out. So, you're not the type of tank that go about the battlefield alone. You'll need to be with the team."

"Tell me, is there_ anything _good about this tank? From the research I've done, it was made in the final hours of the war when Japan was expecting an Allied invasion on their home islands. How can a tank made is desperation ever be good?"

"Ah, despite all that I've told you, I see great potential. The Type-97 fulfills the same role as our SU-14; support. You may not immobilize every tank you see, but you can cripple them in so many ways," Valarie said, wicked laughter escaping from her mouth. "Say you're in an ambush position and a Panther is coming straight for you, and you don't know. You have the element of surprise, so first, you let them come as close as they can without spotting you, and then, fire! Take out their tracks to make them stop. Next, lob a shell at the turret face, where the gun sight is, right of the gun from your perspective. Now you've blinded the gunner. Hit every vision port you can see to render them all blind," a smile was growing on her face. "Next, you pummel them with your HE rounds. Every ten seconds, you give them roaring headaches that disorientate from doing anything. Make them wish they were knocked out in the first shot, as the rest of the team moves in to tear apart the crippled Panther."

The rest of the T-44 crew were within earshot and were incredibly taken aback over Valarie's talk of how the Type 97 was to be used. It was almost like Valarie took pleasure in the scene she was describing, of the Panther tank being paralyzed and being helpless to defend itself. Aubrey, on the other hand, was unfazed by it all. In fact, she shared in her energy.

"Okay! You've sold me on the tank. I can't wait to bring the pain in this month's match."

"Same here, but you'll need to fire your gun first at practice this Saturday."

"Right, right."

"Okay, next, you may have noticed that on the team's tanks they painted these insignias that represent their callsigns. Would you like to do that on yours?"

Aubrey looked at her with beaming eyes. "Oh, yes. Yes I would."

The Type 97 crew eagerly went about painting their insignia. Valarie stood back and watched as her own crew joined her.

"You got a bit...passionate there, describing the role the new tank is to serve." Emma told her with some trepidation.

"Passion is one word to describe it." added Ashley.

"Are you okay?" Heather said rather bluntly.

Valarie turned to face her crew and shot them a smile. "Guys, I appreciate the concern, but I'm alright. I truly am."

Heather, Ashley, and Emma exchanged looks between each other, their minds contemplating Valarie's answer. They collectively decided not to pursue further questions. Together, they watched as the Type 97 crew painted their insignia. As it was _Sidewinder_, they created a simplistic depiction of a snake, with a tongue slithering out. To acknowledge Aubrey's intense love for prehistoric animals, the snake was painted to look like a skeleton. It was perhaps the cutest depiction of a skeletal snake ever put on a tank. Once they were done, they stepped back to admire what they've created.

"Now, it's our tank." Aubrey said with pride.

Elsewhere in the garage, another crew, too, were enjoying the new additions on their tank. The Cromwell crew has just tightened the last bolt for the mounts of the RP-3 rockets that arrived in the garage a few days ago. Once the mounts where firmly on, Sage and her crew with glee mounted the RP-3 rockets, two on each side of the turret. With the warhead and propellant combined, the rocket weighed sixty pounds. A hefty weight that required care when installing, but once it was all done, the Cromwell crew gawked at the increased firepower they now had at their disposal.

"We're gonna bring hellfire on anyone who crosses path with us." Sage boasted.

"That is, if we ever hit anything," Elizabeth remarked, the Cromwell's gunner.

The team tended to their vehicles, with them helping out the Type 97 crew when needed. Over where the T-44 was parked, Valarie rested on the turret roof, staring up to the ceiling. The meeting was coming to a close, so she allowed herself to lounge around. The sound of the commander's cupola being opened grabbed her attention. Turning her head, she saw Emma peaking out.

"Why, hello there commander," Valarie teased. "Anything of note to report?"

Emma let out a laugh. "Well, I do have something interesting to share."

"Oh, do tell." Valarie said, inching closer.

"I've been speaking with other members of the team and they've all told me that they've been receiving some attention from other students at school?"

"Like, bad attention?"

"The opposite, actually. People are quickly finding out what the team does and are getting excited over it. Some even wished they could join the team...which made me think. Can people from Catalina actually join?"

"No," said a voice from below them. Looking down, the girls saw that it was Buchanan, who was walking by and happened to hear their conversation. "Per the rules set forth by the International Tankery Federation, all members of a tankery team participating in the internationals must be students of the school the team is from. Only students from Mojave Rose can be on the team. If outside people want to join, they first have to transfer."

"Oh..." uttered Emma, somewhat disappointed. "Guess that means whenever we get more tanks, the crews have to come from California. And since we could be literally anywhere in the world, they have loads of traveling to do just to get here."

"It's an irritating issue," Buchanan said. "But it's an issue that only we are dealing with, no one else. The rest of the schools in the tournament don't have this problem because the rest of their student body isn't half the world away."

"And, if we can speak with honesty," Valarie then said. "Who would honestly transfer from a private school to a public one? I don't want to put down Mojave Rose...buuut, clearly, one school does things a bit better than the other."

"Yeah..." Buchanan muttered, scratching her head. "You're...right. But best to keep this to yourself. Mr. Redwood would be rather upset if he heard that."

"Alright. Hey, while you're here, your wedding is this Saturday, right?"

Buchanan nodded.

"So, is practice just not happening that day?"

"No, it's happening. Need to squeeze in some time for the Type 97 crew to get gunnery practice. It will be short though to give you guys time to go back home and get dressed for the wedding...you are coming, right?"

"Of course!"

"Great! Hope you got something nice to wear when the day comes!"

Buchanan departed. Valarie thought about what she said and then turned toward Emma with some alarm. "I need help picking out a dress!"

_Saturday_

In the early morning hours, the Mojave Rose team were out and about in Inspiration Park to conduct their practice. With Buchanan away to handle the final preparations of the wedding, it was Valarie who was handling everything. The main event here was the first firing of the Type 97, with people eager to see what kind of damage the 120mm cannon can do. Deep within the park, the Type 97 followed the T-44 down a dirt path to a small clearing where they then stopped. Valarie then relayed instructions to them over the radio.

"A mound of dirt lays 1000 meters ahead of you. Take aim and see if you can hit it."

"Copy that." Aubrey reported.

Within the Type 97, Phoebe with some difficulty grabbed a 120mm shell from the rack and loaded the round right into the breech.

"Ready!"

Savanna was on the gun sights, and rotated the turret, it moving slowly, on the dirt mound ahead of them. She made out the range the best she could and reasonably came to the conclusion that she has done everything right. "Ready to fire!"

Aubrey was peering out her periscopes, looking out to the mound. Now was the time to hear and feel what this gun was to offer. "Fire!"

With a loud thud, the 120mm Naval Short Gun let loose a HE round down range, flying somewhat wobbly through the air. With how low the shell velocity was, the Type 97 had to compensate heavily due to the 1000 meter distance. So much so that when the round was approaching the mound, it was pointed downward like an artillery shell. Impacting the target, a bright and loud explosion was witnessed by the team observing. The Type 97 fell short of hitting the mound directly, but it's explosive radius was large enough that it decimated the target all the same, dirt being flung in all directions. It was all entertaining to see.

"Not even hitting it dead on, and we still messed up the target," Aubrey remarked with a grin. "Let's see if we can wreck it even further."

Another shell was loaded, their aim readjusted, and the Type 97 fired another shot. This time, it landed firmly onto the dirt mound and scattering more of the material around the area. This was done several more times, with the large mound getting increasingly smaller with each successive, and more accurate hit. Soon, Valarie told them to cease fire. There was another weapon's demonstration that had to be done. The Type 97 withdrew and the Cromwell parked where it once was. Sage couldn't wait a moment longer.

"I want to see what these rockets can do!" she exclaimed with energy uncharacteristic of her. "Target that mound, full barrage!"

The turret of the Cromwell aimed at the mound in question and after a second of aim adjustment, all four rockets were simultaneously fired and soared toward target, making this eerie whistle as they flew. In just a matter of moments, all of them hit and the resulting explosion was unimaginable. The combined firepower of four RP-3 rockets at a concentrated place shook the earth and produced a hellish explosion that rattled every member of the team to their core. Unlike every other time whenever an explosion occurred, where people were laughing and cheering over how cool it was, no one uttered a noise when the rockets detonated. The sound and feeling was horrible and fear-inducing. Soon, there was an odor in the air of the vaporized rocket propellant, a new kind of smell that the team was soon to become accustomed too. After some more time, Sage stood on top the Cromwell to better see how much damage the rockets did. Once the smoke cleared, the mound was gone, utterly and totally annihilated by the rocket barrage. All that remained was a crater where it once stood. Slowly, Sage's face went from complete shock to jubilation.

"Oh...my God! Did you all SEE that?! The power in those rockets...I'll be damned! Not only are they awesome, but they're also terrifying. I mean, did you hear them while they flew in the air? God! I have goosebumps. Anyone else?"

"Holy hell," Valarie muttered under her breath. "I'll be stunned in anything could withstand a barrage like that. Sincerely glad they're on our side." She took a glance at the time and gasped "Ah! The wedding! Everyone return to the garage and get ready! It's in an hour!"

_Later_

The event center on board the ship was built as close to the edge as building can possibly be while still being safe. Here, Redwood paced around within, inside a large room filled with decorated tables fit for a special day. He was joined by every male member of the team, totaling six people. Redwood and Buchanan were doing the tradition don't see each other until the big moment arrives, so all the guys went with Redwood, and all the girls were with Buchanan. It was clear that one person had more people than the other.

"I appreciate you all being guests for our wedding," Redwood told them. "We didn't want some fancy, extravagant wedding, though we do like having guests and all."

"Anytime," Ray said. "So, ah, where's your...wife-to-be?"

"In another room in this building, getting ready. All the girls on the team are with her helping in ways they can. You know, that's fifty-five people with her. I just have six. Heh, I got it easy here. Makes it easy to choose my groomsmen, which is all of you. Gabrielle will have to choose among all the girls her bridesmaids."

"What do groomsmen do?" Eli asked. "I never been to a wedding before."

"Just stick near me and look sharp. Not too hard."

"Well, I can definitely look sharp."

Not long after, a nearby set of doors flung open and in came in the rest of the team. They populated the tables and soon the room was filled with the team. The room everyone was in was divided by a long red carpet, forming an aisle. Redwood, along with his groomsmen, went to the end of aisle where the ceremony would take place. Among them was the marriage officiant, a local priest. Once everyone has gotten settled, the doors opened again and in came Buchanan. All the chatter in the room fell silent as all eyes were upon the bride. The wedding dress Buchanan was wearing was a simple design, yet suited her wonderfully. It was a single piece and sleeveless, her hair done in a crown braid for their special day, and holding a bouquet of white roses. With Buchanan were the bridesmaids she has chosen. Of all the girls, she only chosen three. Valarie, Heather, and Ashley. Valarie, of course, was the team captain so that was a given. Heather was once Buchanan's neighbor and was the person who had the idea of going to her when the team needed an instructor all those months ago. Ashley, with her devious exploits, made it so that the ATA's proposed rule change would not go into effect, therefore saving her job. Buchanan walked down the aisle with the three girls following close behind. All the while, wedding music was played over speakers to set the mood. When Buchanan reached the end of the aisle, she faced Redwood with a gleeful smile, her eyes shining brilliantly. Their bridesmaids and groomsmen stood by them, as the ceremony started.

"Good afternoon honored guests," the priest began. "We take ourselves away from the hustle and bustle of routine life to witness and celebrate the start of something beautiful. For today, Gabrielle Buchanan and Martin Redwood embark to join their lives in the union of marriage. Sweethearts since high school, only in the past several months have they made up for lost time and came to the wonderful conclusion that they were made for each other. A good story with no ending in sight," The priest then turned to Redwood. "Martin, do you take Gabrielle to be your lawfully wedded wife, from this day on, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, for all of your life?"

"I do."

The priest now faced Buchanan. "Gabrielle, do you take Martin to be your lawfully wedded husband, from this day on, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, for all your life?"

Buchanan took a moment to relish the moment. A true dream come true. "I do."

"Thusly, by the power in vested in me by God, and also the State of California, it is my honor and delight to declare you both husband and wife!"

With the priest's words, the newlyweds kissed for the first time as married couple, to the thunderous fanfare of the team, clapping and cheering for the two adults that made huge impacts in their lives. Immediately after the ceremony, the celebrations began and food was passed around and enjoyed by all. At each table, did the crews congregated, ate and chatted together.

"This is all beautiful, isn't it?" Emma remarked with a loving sigh.

"Oh it is," Valarie said. "There's something about the simplicity about it that I love."

"You know, if this wedding was like in the movies, it would feel fake," Ashley said. "This wedding felt genuine. Authentic. That I appreciate."

Heather was looking at the now Mrs. Redwood's dress. "Hmm. I can see four ways to touch up her dress to make it_ pop_."

"It's her dress, not yours Heather," Ashley told her.

"...Alright."

"So, how many times are we going to refer to Mrs. Redwood as Miss Buchanan by accident?" Valarie then said.

"A lot," Heather answered. "It's gonna be awkward for a bit till we get used it to."

"Why not just use her first name?" Ashley suggested. "She's the type of person who doesn't care of the formality that younger people use 'Mrs'. We're all friends with her."

"Mmm, I have a feeling that she would prefer her new name as much as possible to get people used to it." Heather asserted.

"Wanna make a bet on that?"

"Twenty dollars."

"Deal."

They shook on it. As dinner went on, a section of the room was cleared and ceiling lights were activated to focus on the area. It was clear to all that it was a dance floor. The first people on there, was of course, the newlyweds, who slow danced to classical compositions. After some time, the music changed, which indicated to the rest of the team they they could now join in on the dance floor. People got up from their tables and rushed the floor. Much to Natalie's delight, Ray went up to her and wanted to dance, which she happily accepted. As the afternoon went on, and the dancing came to an end, the newlyweds moved outside where they took photos on an raised platform that offered the ocean as a majestic background. The rest of the team joined them outside, and more photos were taken, with the groomsmen and bridesmaid, and finally, with everyone in one huge group photo. The wedding, though simple, was everything Martin and Gabrielle ever imagined and were beyond overjoyed. They now stood before a car, with Martin addressing the team.

"I want to thank you all for attending our wedding. You've made our day that more special. Now, I would like to make a special announcement. We're going to kick off our honeymoon by traveling all over Europe because, well, we're already here. We'll be gone a week, though we will for sure be back well before the next match on August 31st. We're entrusting you all not to make too much of a mess."

Martin and Gabrielle were about to enter the car, when Gabrielle stopped. "Oh! I almost forgot. I don't need these flowers anymore. You all know the tradition, right?"

The sight of Gabrielle preparing to throw the bouquet sent every girl in a near frenzy as each wanted the bouquet in their hands. With her back to them, Gabrielle threw the flowers and turned to see the action. Arms were straight up in the air as people reached for the thrown flowers. Only one out of the over fifty girls got lucky and clutched the flowers in her hand.

"Ah-ha! I got it!" Valarie exclaimed, holding the flowers high and with pride. She brought it closer to her to smell the aroma of the roses when she then felt Emma stand next to her. She placed her own hand on the flowers, not to take it away, but to hold it with her. They looked into each other's eyes, and as the Martin and Gabrielle drove off to start their honeymoon, Valarie and Emma were in their own world, sharing a moment.

"One day," Valarie whispered in a gentle voice. "That will be us."


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Germany match draws years, the Mojave Rose teams makes a request for all sorts of equipment to aid them in their regular duties. All the while, Martin and Gabrielle begin their honeymoon, and Port Chalmers High School finalize their strategy.
> 
> Things are just getting started, mate!

_Sunday, August 18th 2013_

The wholesome and jovial mood from the wedding the day before still delightfully lingered among Valarie and Emma. The bouquet Valarie had caught was now in a vase of water to keep them alive. The young couple were laying in bed together, hands clasped. They were both on cloud nine, savoring moments like these.

"Were you being serious about what you said yesterday?" Emma then asked, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" Valarie muttered, half-asleep.

"Were you serious that one day we'll be married?"

"With all my heart," Valarie affirmed, squeezing Emma's hand. "You'll be my wife, and I'll be your wife...it'll be pure heaven. One day."

"One day..." Emma echoed.

The girls snuggled close and prepared to nap the day away together when then they heard rhythmic knocking at the door. Being fairly confident on who it was, Valarie rose from the bed, leaving Emma to fall asleep, and went to answer the door. It was precisely who she thought it was.

"You're becoming a frequent visitor, aren't you?" Valarie joked.

"That I am," Madison said. Tucked in her arms were a small collection of papers that drew curiosity from Valarie. She walked in and sat herself at the kitchen table. "I hear that there was a wedding."

"Yes, yesterday. Between Mr. Redwood and the former Ms. Buchanan. I think you know them."

"I do. Shame I couldn't attend but I was waist-deep in research," Madison informed, waving the papers in her hand. "Fascinating research."

"More tanks?"

"No...Alice has really taken a liking to researching tanks so she took it upon herself to be the person responsible to look for more tanks for the team to acquire. She was the one who found that Japanese tank."

"Gotcha. So, what do you have there then?"

With a grin on her face, Madison shared what she found. "Genealogy records."

"...And those are?"

"Family history to put it simply. Specifically, _yours_."

"Mine?" Valarie uttered with surprise.

"Yes, yours. Paid for a premium genealogy service to get all the info. I gotta say, thank god your last name is 'Woodlin' and not something super common like 'Smith'. That make shifting through the info _so _much easier."

Madison passed the papers to Valarie, who gave them a quick read to get the gist of things. On one piece of paper in particular, though, she took her time as it listed out all people with the last name 'Woodlin' according to various US governmental sources. There was a smile on her face as she read the names of people that was part of her family. Madison took notice on what Valarie was reading and started to ask questions.

"So...I see that your family isn't huge."

"Nope. Fertility, as it turns out, isn't this family's strong suit. Mostly on the men's side who have these problems, like my dad. Poor guys."

"Uh huh. And, despite it all, here we are."

"Yes we are. Lighting can strike twice."

Valarie read on, and after a few moments, Madison asked something else. "So, uh, I notice that you have an aunt."

"I do. She's in Colorado with my cousin."

"I see," Madison remarked with some confusion. "Then why did your mom tell me that you don't have any aunts?"

"Oh, they just hate each other." Valarie answered nonchalantly, not even looking up from the paper she was reading.

Madison was a bit stunned over her response. "They...hate each other? Why?"

"My aunt always had this superiority complex that was at a 10. When she got her bachelors, and later, a masters degree, that complex ratcheted it up to 11. She's the only member of the family that I know of who has form of higher education. Uses that fact as a hammer to beat down others, especially my mom, who never went to college."

"Man, sucks to hear about people using their success to belittle others."

"No kidding. My aunt would always make fun of my mom just because she is a welder. Saying that it was a dead-end job that commanded no respect as 'anyone can put metal together.' She'd always use me to bring her down. 'Think about Valarie, can you support her just being a welder?', 'Valarie has so much potential! She'll never realize it if you don't get a more admirable job to back her up.'. Geez. The last time they talked was over the phone...and it was bad. By the end of it, my mom was in tears and they never spoke again."

Madison leaned in her chair in silence for a bit, processing what she heard. "...What a bitch."

"One hundred percent."

"Did she ever treat you like she did your mom?"

"Well...no." Valarie shared. She paused to recall her memories. "She used to babysit me when she used to live in Barstow before moving. This was when their relationship was tolerable. From what I can remember, she would frequently say to me to go to college to be better than my mom. Other than that she was...fine I guess, but man, maybe don't tell a six-year-old to think about college?"

After reading the list a bit more and seeing familiar names, she set the the paper with a satisfied smile. "This is all great. Mind if I keep this and the other things you've dug up?"

"Of course, it's your family history after all."

"You're part of it too."

Blushing deeply, Madison walked to where her sister sat and planted a kiss on the top of her head. The two siblings spent the rest of their Sunday in blissful leisure.

_Monday_

Midday. It was the lunch hour and as usual, Valarie and Emma were sat underneath a palm tree and were enjoying their lunch together. As they ate, they of course chatted, and also doing some reading. Not anything tankery related, but for their classes. As they had the same schedule, they were reading the same thing.

"I can read Henry David Thoreau all day." Valarie shared, turning a page.

"Same here, though what is it with artists, poets, writers, and the such from that time that they tend to be unmarried?"

"And they typically live with a roommate of the same sex that they spend an awful amount of time with?"

They were grinning at each other. "The world may never know." Valarie said with a laugh.

The girls enjoyed their lunch together, all in their own bubble as the other students in the courtyard did their own things. Even at this wealthy private school, where one might assume that the student body was composed of sophisticated and classy people, just one second wandering around the courtyard during yard would dispel such notions as the place was as rowdy and noisy as any school back in the United States. In an odd way, this cacophony of conversation, laughter, and yells brought a sense of familiarity to the Mojave Rose team that made their attendance at Catalina comfortable and easy-going.

Lunch was soon to come and end when then, Emma happened to latch her eyes on a familiar boy. She chuckled. "I spy your husband."

"Wha-?" Valarie began, but quickly realized what Emma meant. "Ah, geez, where is he?"

"Heading right toward us."

Cocking her head, Valarie saw the guy who was approaching. He had brown hair that danced as gusts of wind hit him. On his face was a pair of glasses that he adjusted frequently to get them just right. Slung around his shoulder was a case. When he arrived at the palm tree, he gave them a smile that was innocent enough.

"Why, ah, hello ladies," he greeted with a soft voice. He cleared his throat. "Um, you both look striking today."

"...Thanks." Valarie said with a little hesitation.

"Ah, I'm Zack," the boy told them. "And to tell you the truth, I'm already somewhat familiar on who you two are."

"Is that so?" Emma asked.

"Indeed! You two are part of that tankery team the school is hosting, correct?"

The girls nodded.

"What a fascinating situation! I take that you two are well acquainted with Madison?"

"You know Madison?"

"Everyone does," Zack told her. "She's the student council president. When she ran for that seat, she campaigned like she was running for president of the United States. Posters everywhere, and since she's rich, and we mean _rich _considering who her mom is, she used her wealth to put on extravagant things like free buffets to get people to vote for her. It clearly worked as she won in a landslide and no student dares to try to take her seat. She also rubs administration the wrong way, which is another reason why some people like her."

"Woah...that's interesting."

"Speaking of interesting, me and a bunch of other people are curious to know why Madison was so obsessed with you and your team. It sparked so many rumors. The latest one is that you two are...sisters? Is that true?"

Valarie took a deep breath. "Yes, we are sisters."

Zack looked at her for a moment, than merely nodded. "Ah. Cool."

Valarie and Emma were slightly taken aback over Zack's calm demeanor over such news.

"So," he then said, knelling down to meet their level. "I come to you today not only to confirm a rumor, but to make two propositions that I believe will benefit all parties."

"...Go on." Valarie said after some contemplation.

"One, I would like to take photos of your team as they do their thing," Zack said. He opened the case he carried and showed them an expensive-looking camera. "I want to take a bunch of photos of you guys."

"Um, why?"

"You see, I want to be a photographer, so of course, I'm taking a photography class. And this class has a semester project where we have a create a photo album based around a theme of our choosing."

"Your doing a semester class already?" Emma inquired.

"It's normally assigned in October but I want a headstart. The arrival of your team gave me the perfect idea for a theme. Contrasts."

"Contrasts?" Valarie wondered.

"Yes!" Zack exclaimed. "Think about the sport you do. Tanks are these steel brutes whose sole purpose is to make war. There is nothing elegant about something that was made with the express intent to destroy. Yet, in a sport like tankery, they are operated by girls. Girls are typically viewed as innocent, wholesome, graceful, et cetera. Girls and tanks, polar opposites. That'll make for a great theme, don't ya think?"

Valarie glanced toward Emma, who merely gave her a shrug. It wasn't up to her to make the decision, but to the captain.

"So, you just want to take pictures of the team as we do our duties?" Valarie asked for clarification.

"That I do! Just you guys doing maintenance, repair...maybe even some firing."

Valarie gazed off into the distance to ponder, then nodded. "Alright, sure. I think the team will find this all fun."

"Great! Taking the photos in black and white will be the best way, fitting that world war aesthetic.

"Now, what is that other proposition of yours?" Emma asked him with some suspicion.

"It focuses on her," Zack said, pointing to Valarie. "I'd love to take some portraits of you in your tankery photo. Maybe even get some gun props for you to make you look like a U.S Army tank commander from WWII. It'll be black and white too."

"A portrait of me?" Valarie remarked with some excitement. "That sounds pretty fun! I'll do it. In exchange, I would like a copy of every photo you take of the team and me."

"Deal!" Zack said, hopping up and down. "Man! I'm so glad you said yes! The photos are going to be dynamite!"

"So, you wanna come by the garage after school to get things underway?"

"Thanks, but I have some other business to attend to. I will swing by the garage when I have the time, I know where it is. See ya when I see ya!"

Zack left with a smile, leaving Valarie and Emma alone.

"He's into you, but not in the way I thought." Emma admitted.

"All his looks he sent me," Valarie added. "I think it's just the way he is. We just met an eccentric photographer."

_Later_

Not long after the school day, the garage was rife with activity. Members of the team were out and about tending to their machines. Before today's meeting got fully underway, Valarie gathered the team and stood on top the T-44 to address them.

"For the entire week, it's just going to be us. Mr. and Mrs. Redwood are on their honeymoon. It's up to us to keep things orderly and productive. Ray and I will handle the administrative aspect of the team, while the rest of you will do what you do best."

With the little speech done, Valarie and Ray went to the second floor to the office where they sat themselves before computers and jumped right into it. For Valarie, it was emails. Using the login information supplied to her, she accessed and browsed the inbox and was presented with a sea of messages whose contents varied wildly. Information about the world tournament, news from the school and district back home, advertisements from tankery-related businesses to show off their products, and an invitation.

...And Invitation?

The title of this email grabbed Valarie's full attention.

_Invitation from Grafenwohr Army Base_

The contents of the message said,

_To the Mojave Rose Tankery Team,_

_The 7th Army Training command extends an invitation to you to come visit the Grafenwohr training grounds. Specifically, the 41st Field Artillery wants you to visit. The 41st 'Railgunners' would love to show off the fire power they are so infatuated with. We've been following your progress in the world competition and as your upcoming match is in Germany, we believed it was perfect timing for you to come over. Perhaps the 'Railgunners' can teach that SU-14 of yours a thing or two? Kind Regards,_

_Command Sgt. Maj. Hank Sinclair_

There was contact information that concluded the rest of the message. Valarie leaned in her chair and couldn't stave off a grin forming on her face.

"Come check this out, Ray."

Getting up, Ray went over to see what Valarie was so interested in. He read the email.

"...What? The Army is inviting? Like, the_ real_ freaking army?"

"Yeah!"

They looked at each other excitedly, when then Ray put on a puzzled expression.

"A field artillery unit wants to see us?" he questioned. "Wouldn't a tank unit make way more sense?"

"The last American armored brigade in Germany was deactivated earlier this year. They're is no American tanks in Europe anymore."

"Yeah...you would know about that, wouldn't you?"

"You know how I am."

"Indeed I do," Ray said with a smile. "So, we gonna do it?"

"Oh hell yeah we are."

Valarie gleefully sent a response to the email, accepting the invitation. She looked at more emails and after finding that they were none that needed her pressing attention, closed out of the email and, again, reclined in her seat and let out a relaxing sigh.

"Man, this is easy," she remarked. "How's your end?"

Ray looked at his computer screen for several moments, then shot her a smile. "We're good on ammo, fuel, spare parts, and everything else this team needs to keep it up and running."

"Ah, perfect. This administration bit is a real breeze."

They exchanged nods and began to browse the internet for fun. Every now and then, Valarie would glance at Ray to see how she was doing and it was only then that she noticed something about him. Chiefly, his hair.

"Your hair is getting long there. Some strands are over your eyes. You're either too lazy to get a cut or this is a look your going for."

Ray let out a little laugh. "Yeah, it's a look I'm going for. Can't a guy have long hair if he wants it?"

"You do you, man. I like the look, honestly. It matches your feminine hips."

Upon hearing that, Ray bolted up from his seat and checked himself, walking around in circles. "What? What? I don't see it! Well...maybe!?"

"Haha! I was just kidding there."

"Geez," Ray muttered, sitting back down. We both don't have feminine hips, but you what we both do have?"

"What?"

"Gray hair."

Valarie's eyes widen and she looked at him for a moment in silence. "How in the hell do you know I have gray hair?"

"Back in our Spanish match when we were meeting with the Italian team's leadership, we were all standing so close together. Since I'm taller than you, I just so happened to glance down on the top of your head and saw like three strands of gray hair."

"...Three? Oh god, I have more?"

"You sure do. Natalie noticed I have a few the other day. She likes it, surprisingly. She has a thing for that salt-and-pepper look for hair."

Valarie sported a soft grin, her alarm of her the news she has more gray hair now totally gone. "Emma likes the look too. You know, even being a tankery fan all my life, I never knew just how stressful and demanding being a captain would be. I also never would've known just how much I would love and savor every moment."

"I can definitely agree on that!"

If the two had drinks on hand, they would clink the glasses. Instead, they just gave each other nods and resumed 'working' on the computers. Only a few minutes elapsed when the sound of footsteps caused them to look up from their screens. The door opened and in walked in the commander of the Sherman Jumbo, Haley.

"Hello!" she said all bubbly. Even in a room with little windows, her golden blonde hair shined as brilliantly as it did outside. "My crew and I have a little request for you guys. We have come to the conclusion that the 75mm cannon of the Jumbo is just not strong enough anymore to deal with all the big bad tanks in the world tournament. Sooo, we would like a 76mm M1A2 cannon please and thank you."

"Sure thing," Valarie said without skipping a beat. "We'll find a supplier in Germany and get it here in time for the upcoming match."

"Super! Thanks guys! Stay cool!"

Haley left with a pep in her step, pleased that the Jumbo was going to get an increase in firepower. It was a needed change as the 75mm historically was more suited for infantry support. The 76mm M1A2 had a longer barrel, giving shells a higher velocity, and had muzzle break. And muzzle breaks are cool.

Ray and Valarie resumed their attention to their computers when the door of their office opened yet again. In entered Marielle, commander of the VK. The Hispanic girl had black splotches of grease stained all over her uniform. She looked exhausted, her face was sweaty and her black wavy hair all frazzled.

"Are you okay?" Valarie inquired.

"Yes..." Marielle responded. "But things could be better. The roadwheels on the VK...are complete bullshit to maintain and replace as it's all overlapping. Not to mention so tiring. We need heavy duty jacks to life the whole thing up to make everything so much easier."

Valarie nodded. "Of course. Anything that makes the job easier for you is welcome."

Marielle had a relieved smile on her face. "Ahh, thank you."

She left closing the door behind her.

"Okay, that makes two things to get." Valarie noted.

"Oh yeah, things are getting real busy here." Ray said jokingly.

What transpired in the next half hour proved to make Ray's joke very real. One after the other, the commanders of the team went to the office with their requests for all sorts of things that they believe would help them better carry out their duties. All except for Sage, the Cromwell commander, who was already quite content with the RP-3 rockets. In fact, it was them getting their rockets that inspired the rest of the team to get more equipment. Once the last commander left, Ray and Valarie took a breather from the onslaught that they just endured. Before her was a piece of paper that she used to list the team's various request. She read them to review.

_M4A3E2 Sherman 'Jumbo'_

_\- M1A2 76mm Cannon_

_VK 30.02 M_

_\- Heavy duty jacks for easier maintenance _

_M5A1 Stuart_

_\- Smoke mortars for turret_

_Sentinel ACIV_

_\- APDS ammo to replace regular APCBC Rounds_

_Jagdpanzer IV/70 (V)_

_\- Armored side skirts. Mostly because it looks cool_

_ 234/2 'Puma'_

_\- German WWII 1M Stereoscopic Rangefinder Model 1936 for better scouting_

_T26E4 Super Pershing_

_\- A hatchet_

_SU-14-2_

_-Improved interior lighting for better nighttime combat_

_SU-100_

_-Russian 2D 1945 6x30 Binoculars with night filters_

_Panther II_

_\- 10 IR devices in reserve ( Just in case )_

_AMR 35 ( ZT 2 )_

_-Steel tow cabels ( A bit optimistic there.)_

_Type 97 Chi-Ha, 120mm Short Gun_

_-Protective padding to put on the engine as it is partially sticking out into the fighting compartment_

Valarie set down the paper and closed her eyes. "_Now_ we're busy." she uttered.

"I just had to jinx it, huh?" Ray mentioned

They both laughed.

"What about you?" Ray then asked.

"Hmm?"

"Got anything you want?"

"What more can I want?" Valarie said to him. "The T-44 has side skirts and a 100mm LB-1 gun. The tank has reached its peak, there's no more upgrades for it that is allowed for tankery."

"Doesn't have to be for the tank. Just something helpful overall."

Valarie looked up at the ceiling in thought. "I honestly can't think of anything. Maybe it'll just pop up in my mind. Anyway, what about you? What does the vice captain want?"

"Dinner?"

"...huh?" Valarie uttered, wide-eyed.

"I've got this roast chicken recipe I'm experimenting with, so I need people to give me feedback. Natalie is already joining me, so bring Emma. It can be sorta like a double date."

"Oh! That would be lovely!"

The leadership of Mojave Rose worked on getting what the team ordered and sprung for expedited shipping to ensure that the material will arrive well before the team's match with New Zealand. After more administrative work was done, the meeting that day came to an end and the team was dismissed. Later, Valarie and Emma joined Ray and Natalie for an evening dinner of a tasty roast chicken along with some delicious sides. It was a pleasant evening filled with nonstop conversation and laughter. A nice break from everything.

_Same Day_

_Reims, France_

They have only been married for about two days now, but both Martin and Gabrielle knew it in their hearts that their marriage will last till the end of time. Once their wedding came to an end, they went back to their home, switched out of their formal clothes in attire much more casual and comfortable, and packed the car with all the necessities a roadtrip demanded. Once done they were off, not to explore Germany, but to go to France. Reims, France to be exact, at Gabrielle's insistence. When Martin asked why go there first, she playfully refused, which made his curiosity rise. As the couple neared the French city, Martin noticed that Gabrielle was becoming increasingly excited, having this childlike eagerness on her face. This amused him plenty, but also told him that wherever they were going was clearly important to. They drove throughout the day and when they finally arrived , Gabrielle's enthusiasm reached new heights.

"God does this place have history."

"I'm sure it does, but what history_ exactly_?" Martin questioned her.

She chuckled. "You'll find out when we get there, follow that GPS exactly."

Martin faithfully did what he was told. As they drove on, he became perplexed when the GPS soon lead them out of Reims proper and into the surrounding countryside. What confused him ever further was the destination Gabrielle has set the GPS to. Not at some building of note, a museum filled with renowned art work, or even some piece of nature that was uniquely beautiful. They arrived at a rest stop along the road that was on a large hill. It had nothing but spaces to park cars and a nearby railing that overlooked a valley below. When the car stopped, Gabrielle immediately got out of the car and headed straight for the railing. Martin got out after her, but took a look of his surroundings and was at a lost. In the area they were, it looked...average. Nothing extraordinary. He walked toward his wife to join her and it was then did he saw what she saw. In the valley below them was a school about half a mile out. Beside this school was a large, expansive grassy field. Parked on this field was a collection of tanks neatly organized in one line. He wasn't some tank expert like some people on the team, but he reasonably guessed that they were from the WW1-era.

"This must be some school to come, literally, across the world," Martin remarked. "What is this place?"

"Académie Technique des Filles de Reims." Gabrielle answered, her perfect French pronunciation surprising her husband. "This place was where it all started."

"Where it all started?" Martin wondered. "Oh, wait, do you mean-"

"Yes!" Gabrielle began, her excitement gripping her. "This school was where the sport was born."

"Woah, no fooling? That school down there created the sport that we're all so involved with to this day? What's the story behind that?"

"1919. Following the war, they was a surplus of military equipment from both sides of the conflict. They included the tank, the new invention that had an immense impact of the battlefield and would continue to do so. These surplus material found their way to the civilian markets, legally or otherwise. Reims Technical Academy for Girls, the school right before us, had an club that was dedicated to automotive vehicles. They would tune up their cars to extreme degrees to find their limits. All of this lead to some of these girls reading about the tank, and getting inspired. They approached the school and after some time this club acquired 2 British Mark Vs, and 3 Renault FTs. Like what they did with their cars, these tanks were modified along with their shells. By the end of it, the world had it's first tankery team."

"Lord, all the way back in 1919, huh? It's been around for that long?"

"Oh yes," Gabrielle said with a satisfying sigh. "This here is a mecca for tankery fans and athletes alike. It oozes history and commands respect. The first ever match was held around here too, against a school from Versailles when they got inspired to make a team of their own. That match got national attention in France, with the sport quickly spreading throughout the country, then to the rest of Europe, and finally, the rest of the world."

"So, how did tankery as we know came to be? Doubt the rules and such we know now existed nearly a century ago."

"Modern tankery as we know it came from an international conference back in 1949. It set out the rules and other regulatory policies. One of the most important rules was what vehicles would be allowed in matches. Any vehicle either manufactured, be it only prototypes or mass-produced, or has design documents sufficient enough for recreation before August 15th, 1945 are fair game. These rules aren't legally binding or anything, so not every country that has tankery teams had to follow them. So some countries conduct tankery in their own way. Nonetheless, _everyone_ adheres to the cut-off date."

"Hmm. Was the female empowerment part a thing back in 1919?"

"Totally. It was incredibly important back then. The French team captain back then told the press that one of the primary reasons of forming this team was to show France, and the world at large, what women can really do."

"Well, looks like they succeeded."

"Success beyond all expectations."

They spent a few moments watching the academy below, the tanks on the field unmoving.

"Hey, is this French school representing France in the tournament?" Martin asked.

"Oh god no. The school hasn't been in the world tournament since 1987. Since then, they've dedicated to teaching other French schools on how to conduct tankery. And good thing, 'cause I'd be pretty anxious if the team went against the school that literally invented the sport."

Martin took another good look at the tanks below the, "I dunno, if they only have WW1 stuff, they can't be much of a challenge anymore."

As if the school below them could hear his words, the couple then heard the sound of distant engines at work. They looked out and saw a trio of tanks driving in perfect unison. These tanks were clearly more advanced than the British Mark Vs lined up in a neat line.

"Centurion Mark 1s," Gabrielle told him. "Top of the line British tanks, the best any tankery team can have.

"Oh. I see."

Together they both gazed out to the school, soaking in the history that emanated from it. They respected what this institution started all those many years ago and how far it has come in the current age. Now, the sport is an international sensation on par with other well-established sports such as soccer. Tankery. Panzerfahren. Arts martiaux mécanisés. Sensha-do. The sport goes by various names in all the countries of the world, and has radically changed since the its inception, what the girls at Reims pioneered will never be forgotten or go unappreciated. For what they've done is empower generations of girls from all over the world. And now, the sport is doing the same for boys.

.

.

.

_Elsewhere_

_Port Chalmer's School Carrier_

Sailing across the Atlantic ocean, a ship from New Zealand moved steadily toward mainland Europe. Among the onboard city, in a garage that looks like any other building in town, was a small group of girls huddled around a table. On it was a large map of the battlefield for their next match. It was covered with markings of their own creation. One of these girls placed an 'X' on one location of the map, capped her pen, and stood back.

"Our strategy is done," she declared. The other girls nodded in agreeance. A lot of work has gone into this. "Quinn, where I place this 'X' is where you will situate your IS-4. That spot effectively splits the battlefield in half. If the Americans want to come to the other side, they _have_ to go through you."

Quinn leaned over the table to look at her position and smiled. "Oh, you got it. I've familiarized myself with the American's arsenal and none can hope to penetrate my tank from the front. All save for that artillery. Though, with my position being in an railroad tunnel, that threat it utterly negated. I'm not moving an inch from that spot. The Americans will have to go through hell to dare make me move, Aaria, don't you worry."

Aaria Taumata was captain of Port Chalmer's tankery team. A girl of Maori descent, her hair was black and long, and on her chin was a facial tattoo that held significant meaning in her culture. The commander of the IS-4 she has just spoken was Quinn Huntley, her vice captain that hosts a stubborn personality that made her well-suited for being on the defensive. Her brown hair was supremely brushed and patted down, giving off a professional look.

"That's always good to hear, Quinn. You never gave ground before and I don't see it happening anytime time. So, ladies, I think our strategy is good as gold. It'll just be up to us to execute it well."

As they started to clean their table, the sound of an tank, with its thunderous engine and the squeaking of its tracks, filled the inside the the garage. An M36 Jackson rolled in, its hull filthy with dirt and other earthly derbies. It parked in an empty space and was turned off. A girl came bursting out of the vehicle and rushed toward the others at the table with a huge smile on her face.

"I just had a BLOODY good day at the range!" Isla Campbell exclaimed, the gunner of the M36 Jackson. "25 targets at 1000 meters, 25 targets hit and destroyed. A bloody new record!"

The girls at the table clapped upon hearing the news. Isla was without a doubt the best gunner on their team, perhaps even the best out of all the tankery athletes back in New Zealand. Her mastery of the 90mm AT M3 gun was unmatched and for some, they were at a loss at how someone could manipulate the gun to her liking and hit shots with uncanny accuracy. It was as if she herself could control the trajectory of the shells. Did Isla miss her shots? Of course she did, no gunner in history has perfect accuracy and such a thing can never be attained. There was a reason why she preferred shooting her targets from long range. As it meant that she had a relatively calm area to focus and zero in on what she's shooting at. If this partial calm was removed, well, her accuracy tends to go down the drain as her focus is destroyed.

"Amazing work, Isla!" Aaria commended. "That is an achievement worthy of a celebration, and I'm in a mood of a party anyway. Let's all head over to that steakhouse near the school. I'll meet you there."

All the girls in the garage entered in an enthusiastic mood, and immediately rushed out to the restaurant in question. Quinn lingered behind to be with her captain.

"What's the hold up?" Quinn asked. "Got something to check out?"

"Yeah, I wanna review what we're rolling out for the match."

Together, the girls walked the aisles of tanks they had in their possession. Aaria and Quinn confirmed with each other what tanks will be used in their upcoming match with the Americans. On one aisle of vehicles, they stopped to look at them for a moment. Six T-40 Soviet light tanks and four M4 Sherman DDs. They were particular excited about these tanks.

"Our swimmy boys!" Quinn remarked with glee. "They will do well, I can feel it!"

"The Americans will never expect them, they will believe that the various lakes and rivers of the battlefield will be natural barriers. Like how the French thought the Ardennes will stop the German advance in 1940. Everyone knows what happened after that."

Quinn smirked. "And that's not all, is it?"

"Nope," Aaria said, returning a smirk in kind. They walked to a location in the garage that served at a workshop. Here were wooden mock-ups of T-40s and other tankettes. They were painted in camouflage patterns typical of such vehicles and from a distance, looked exactly like the machines. "Ah, our false panzers. Ready for their debut."

Quinn couldn't stifle a laugh. "Bloody hell, our wooden army is gonna get blasted to hell, but that is there express purpose, hmm?"

"You got that right. They will make the Americans waste their ammo, and instill paranoia in them thinking if what they are seeing is one of our real tanks or another decoy," she then giggled. "It's going to be downright fun. Position is hugely important of course. Can't have them all in the open or else they'll be to obvious. All nestled within shrubbery is the way to go. The decoy carriers have been instructed on the precise positions they will go, places where they'll be the most effective."

Turning away, Aaria faced the all the tanks packed into the team's garage. Looking at them, and with the decoy wooden false panzers planned use, she pondered how the events in the coming days will turn out. Quinn joined her.

"What's on your mind?"

"A lot. The match mostly. The decoys, its our first time using such tactics so we gotta do it right."

"Ah, it's gonna be super. It's a genius tactic. Those Americans will have no idea!"

Aaria chuckled. A quote then entered her mind which she just had to share. "When we are able to attack, we make it seem we can't. When using our forces, we must appear inactive. When we are close to the enemy, we must make them think we're far. When we're far, we must make them think we're close. For all warfare is based on deception."


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The match with New Zealand draws near, but between now and then, a whole lot of things are about to transpire.

_T_ _uesday, August 20th 2013_

It was the crack of dawn. People throughout Catalina's ship were still asleep as the day has not yet begun. Though, for one girl, she was already at work. Her focus on the fast approaching Friday, as on that day this ship will be receiving an important visitor. Viola Wilhelm, the great-great-great grand niece of Kaiser Wilhelm the second, the German monarch that lead Germany in the calamity of calamities that was World War I. She will be touring this ship as part of her plan to transfer to an American school. Without a doubt, her being here will be a huge deal, and as such the school's administration is going all-out to make Viola's visit extravagant. Madison has been tasked as the person who is to be with Viola all day to try and persuade the German princess to attend Catalina. Madison always figured she'd be the person responsible, but she still felt the great pressure to deliver. So, in the early morning hours in her dorm, she was at her desk reviewing the preparations. In the past few days, Madison has managed to learn a bit more about Viola. One is that she has never before left Germany, much less ventured out of the German state of North Rhine-Westphalia, for that is where she was born and and currently lives in. This fact initially perplexed Madison as Viola is part of a wealthy family, so she very much has the means to travel. From what Madison can gather, Viola seemed like a homebody, which piled on to her confusion as to why the girl now wanted to transfer to an American school. Though Madison could never find a concrete answer, she did happen to come across a social media account of a relative of Viola and after auto-translating the German to English, the relative said that a cousin of theirs just had a cancer scare and the whole family is immensely relieved that it was nothing serious. No name was mentioned in this social media post, so who it could be referring to could be anyone. Still, a cancer scare could explain why Viola would suddenly want to transfer schools. Especially to a school carrier. The experience could have made Viola want to have a change in her life, live in a different culture, and to see the world just in case she makes a premature departure from it.

Of course, Madison wouldn't _dare_ mention cancer to Viola. That would certainly torpedo all hope of her attending the school.

What she also learned about Viola, this one more of the lighter side, is that she actually has a rudimentary understanding of the English classes. Though a translator, one being Natalie, will still be necessary, Madison fully expects Viola wanting to show off her English, and no matter how choppy, or _bad _it is, Madison is prepare to shower her in praise regardless. That was just the name of the game.

Then there was Valarie. Madison found it incredibly exciting that her sister would be joining her, even if she would be just hanging around. Though, she also understood that Valarie was somewhat nervous about the meeting. She had told Madison what can she possibly offer to help get Viola to transfer. What Madison told her assuaged her of all concern. To just be her genuine self. Plus, she was betting on the fact that since Valarie was in charge of a tankery team that is currently in the world tournament would be a beneficial factor to 'woo' Viola. Hopefully, she had at the very least a meager interest in tanks.

On the desk she sat at, her phone then lit up. Checking in, she learned that she received a text that soured her mood like nothing else. It was from Alice.

"Golden Gate has made port here in Hamburg. We both know why."

Madison groaned. "Goddamn it. This is *not* what we need. I should've known when we saw her at Spain. Like some harbinger of doom."

"She will be here to do what she does best. To_ steal _Viola away from us."

"Ugh. Can't we just ban her from the ship or something?"

"You know we can't do that."

Madison sighed as what Alice said was true. They couldn't ban Juliana just because they hated her. Banning people from school ships, in fact, wasn't a thing that was really done, only in exceptionally rare circumstances. Whenever a school ship made port, it was expected of them to be open and allow people to come aboard as school ships were floating cities, and cities on land tend to be open to all. It was actually in a carrier's best interest to be open, mainly for economical reasons as it meant that whenever it made port, people would come on board to buy things that are not in their home country. For example, as the ship was currently in Germany, Germans have made their way on board and eagerly shopped for American goods, mainly food such as peanut butter, girl scout cookies, and root beer were commonly bought in bulk. What more, American restaurants were always crowded with hungry customers curious to try what Americans eat, with the on-board In-N-Out always the most popular destination. In cases where school ships were in the same port, it was not unusual at all for students of one ship to visit another.

"Yeah...that means we have to be vigilant." Madison replied. "She'll do anything to get Viola."

"Hey, doesn't Juliana know German? Like really well?" Alice then texted.

Madison dropped her phone, it colliding with a thud onto the desk. She reclined back into her chair, her eyes closed, and had a splitting headache that was growing by the second.

"Fuck," she cursed aloud to her empty dorm. She buried her face in her hands. After a bit of wallowing, she grabbed her phone to respond to Alice. "I seem to have forgotten about that. Thanks for the reminder."

"Did you curse in your room? I bet you did."

"No."

"Lies."

"Don't you have something to take care of at school? Like the preparations for a play?"

Madison waited for her reply and when none came, had a hunch to look out her window. Doing so, she saw Alice, dressed in her school uniform, bolting toward campus.

"Thought so."

She went to her bed to lie down and to try and get back some semblance of peace after receiving a double-whammy of bad news. She rubbed her temple when she then felt her phone vibrate. She braced for more ill news, though when she checked the message, her mood did a complete one-eighty. It was a text from Harper, the deaf loader of the Jumbo.

"Good Morning :)"

That was all the message contained. A simple 'good morning'. And that was all that was needed to make her mood sky-rocket. She held her phone close to her chest and smiled. Her worries gone.

_Later_

The Mojave Rose team has acclimated well to the culture that existed at Catalina School of the Arts. The team were already making friends in their respective classes, which was made easier with the fact that since they were part of a tankery team, it made them 'popular'. A routine has been set and comfortable followed. yet for the team, and for the student body at large, they could feel that some event was being planned as school stuff were out and about, making sure the already superbly clean campus was that much cleaner. Everyone had their own theories as to why, though only a select few knew the truth to it all.

At lunch, Emma and Valarie were at their usual place enjoying their time together. They were then joined by Madison. The look on her face told volumes.

"Geez, you look exhausted." Valarie noted.

"Aha...I am." Madison admitted.

"Why's that?" Emma questioned.

"Well, with Viola due to arrive Friday, the school is firing all cylinders to make her visit more than perfect."

"Is that even...possible?" Valarie wondered.

"Dunno, but damn, if the school isn't trying." Madison shared. She sat down with them and rested against the palm tree. "I want to rest a few minutes and not think about it. Get my mind distracted."

Looking to her right, she noticed Valarie's open backpack, and packed within, she saw a big red binder filled to the brim with material.

Oh...what's this?" Madison remarked, grabbing the binder.

"It's the team's playbook," Valarie explained. "Created not just by me, but by the team."

Madison opened the binder and browsed through the myriad of handwritten pages concerning numerous topics and detailed maps of previous matches, them covered with markings akin to a military map in some war room. Filled with symbols that only had meaning to the team. The monumental amount of effort that went into this was felt by Madison, who was greatly impressed. Also, it was like a trip down memory lane as the matches detailed in the playbook, she had seen them in person.

"Ah, I know these matches," Madison said with a pleased sigh. So much fun to watch. I've been to _every _match, you know."

"You...have?" Emma asked, bewildered.

Madison nodded. "MmmHmm. I was there among the crowd, cheering you guys on and hoping to God that you'd win. Man, I can remember that day when I first saw Valarie. Like it was only yesterday..."

.

.

.

_November 24th, 2012_

_Mojave Desert _

Even though it was late in the year, the weather in the Mojave could never be too merciful. The sun, its power still formidable, blanketed the surface with its heat. Madison prepared for this, packing an white umbrella and matching sun hat to keep cool. She arrived to the spectator's area at around 9 AM by herself and walked around to get a feel for the place. She has never been to a tankery match before, so she was incredibly curious to see how things will go down. And, she might as well do it in style as she sprung for premium viewing, not in a tent, but in a high-class, and above all, air-conditioned trailer where she will surely be pampered as she watched steel machines battle each other for sport. Yet, she wasn't here just to see a tankery match, but for one person in particular. She dug out a piece of paper from her pocket and reviewed it.

_Confirmed Family_

_\- Valarie Woodlin_

_Relation: Half-Sister_

She read that paper over a hundred times and still does it give her the same feeling of surreal of astonishment when she first learned the information.

She had a half-sister.

All her life of being an only child, and in just one mere moment, she learned that she had a sibling. Madison always had this inkling, though. A few months ago, her parents, after drinking perhaps too many glasses of wine, shared with her of the mix-up at the fertility clinic whose appointment resulted in her being born. Infatuated with the idea that she could possibly have a sibling, she had hired the services of a private investigator to find exactly that. He did his job well enough, though all he could find for her was a name. No info whatsoever on her appearance.

"Goddamn it Valarie," Madison uttered as she read the piece of paper. "Why won't you have Facebook? Or Instagram? Or Twitter? What do you use for the internet for?"

She was mad at her for only a brief moment before it quickly subsided. For today she was going to see her. Not meet her as she is just ready for to make that encounter. So, looking at her at a distance was sufficient enough.

Why Madison was so certain she would see Valarie here was, again, thanks to the private eye. When the city of Barstow started to hear the thuds of distant guns out in the Mojave, word spread fast that Mojave Rose revived their tankery team. Through some sleuthing, the private investigator managed to learn that Valarie was indeed part of the team. In what way, Madison didn't know.

She walked around the area, passing by tents serving food and selling all sorts of tank-related merchandise. When she turned a corner, her eyes then latched on a row of tanks parked in the not so far distance. She quickened her pace to get a closer look at these machines. They were of different sizes, and Madison could tell that these tanks were from different nations, noting the difference in design and quality of construction. She didn't know what team these tanks belonged to, so, she spoke with a nearby ATA official to learn this information.

"Mojave Rose." was her reply.

Madison looked back at the collection of tanks. Her next task was to determine what tank Valarie was a part of. For that, she walked to a nearby shaded seating area, sat herself down at a chair facing the tanks, and waited. For two hours, she remained seated, her eyes trained on the tanks waiting for anything new. She nearly dozed off, when then the sound of increased activity snapped her attention back to the tanks. She now saw a number of people wearing uniforms that she guessed was from the WWII-era. These people, mostly made up of girls with a handful of boys, were all tending to the tanks, getting them ready. Before Madison was the Mojave Rose tankery team. A smile erupted on her face as her eyes darted around in an attempt to find Valarie. She scoured through over a dozen faces when she then froze.

She found her.

Valarie Woodlin.

Madison was stunned to see how similar in appearance to Valarie. Not totally identical, but the resemblance was clearly there. Black hair, shiny emerald-colored eyes, and the same height. They were without a doubt related; though only Madison knew that. Looking at Valarie, she had this feeling, an growing overwhelming urge. An urge to jump from her seat and run up to her, to explain everything. She used all her strength to temper this feeling. It wouldn't be the right thing to do, to have Valarie learn of something so huge right before her match. It could make her lose focus. Just seeing her was enough to bring Madison joy.

She watched as Valarie then climb on top a tank with a dark green paint job. Stood on the machine, every so often, members of the team would go up to her seemingly to ask questions, in which Valarie answered confidently. To Madison, this was clear evidence that Valarie had leadership skills.

"I barely know you, and you're already making me proud." she whispered to herself.

Valarie must be the leader of the team, the captain, as Madison has learned as prior she familiarized herself with the very basics of the sport. Though, she did not know what tank Valarie stood upon. She took a picture of it on her phone where she then used a image search feature from an online search engine. What appeared was dozens, if not hundreds of pictures showing similar tanks. Through this manner, she learned the tank's name. T-44.

As she read about the Soviet tank, an announcement was then heard, followed by the Mojave Rose team mounting their vehicles and driving off to their starting area several miles away. With their engines fading away in the distance, Madison got up from her chair and headed for the premium trailer to watch in the match in superb comfort. As she settled in and waited for the action to start, she wondered how to approach Valarie, when then, another announcement came on.

"We welcome all to the first round of the U.S Nationals. We can expect it to be action-packed and to have you at the edge of your seat! There are other matches in the competition that are concurrent to this one, so we're glad you chosen to be here when things kick off! As a remainder, the winner of the national tournament will go on to represent the United States in the World Tournament next summer."

That is exactly what Madison wanted to hear. Already, did she know how things are to go down to meet her half-sister. After all, the winner of the nationals will surely need transportation to get to their matches around the glove and Madison knew full well that Mojave Rose did not operate a school ship.

Pleased, she reclined her comfortable chair back, and with cold drinks by her side, watched the screen ahead of her. On it showed the vehicles of Mojave Rose, in a neat line. A moment later, all the machines then moved forward and got into a V-formation. The U.S Nationals has now officially started.

_Present Day_

Madison's reminiscing of her experience of the team's very first match back in November made Valarie and Emma feel a bit strange knowing that she was there from the beginning. Though, they couldn't really blame her for her actions. Madison wanted to see her sister in her own extravagant way.

"So, in a way, you're our biggest fan?" Emma remarked.

"Totally!" Madison exclaimed with a huge grin. "Now, I'm going to rest my eyes for a bit...I had quite a day..."

Madison has underestimated her exhaustion as the moment she closed her eyes, sleep soon followed. Valarie and Emma quieted their conversation as to not to disturb her and let the girl get a much needed rest.

_Later_

With another school day done and dusted, the garage was busy with the team's activity. And today was going to be an busy day. For one, a few of the material the team ordered the previous day had arrived, thanks to expedited shipping. Over where the ACIV was parked was a couple of wooden crates. Robin, with a crowbar in hand, opened one of the crates. Within were the ACIV's new ammunition. Armor-piercing discarding sabot.

"Ladies," Robin said, grabbing a round from the crate. "Feast your eyes on our new sabot rounds."

How APDS ammo differed from standard armor-piercing was this; APDS has a thin tungsten projectile which was encased in metal 'petals', called sabot. The projectile is packed tightly by the sabot, with the immense friction helping to make the projectile have great velocity once fired. Upon being discharged, an APDS round will shed its metal petals immediately upon leaving the barrel of a cannon, soaring toward its unlucky target

"256mm of penetration at 500 meters. A shell velocity of 1200 meters. And it weights over ten pounds less than our old APCBC rounds," Robin informed. "They are just so...better! Plus, with the better penetration, theoretically, it can penetrate the front armor of a King Tiger."

"...Theoretically?" questioned Alexa, the Sentinel's gunner.

"Well..." Robin began, but stopped to think. "I guess the only way to find out is to put theory into practice.

Elsewhere, the Super Pershing crew too received their new material. Well, only one of them did. Louise had in her hand a hatchet that was one issued to some U.S Army units during WWII. It looked wonderfully vintage. It came with a sheath that attached nicely to Louise's pants.

"What the hell are you gonna do with a hatchet?" Taylor asked, the Super Pershing's driver.

Louise unsheathed her hatchet, the metal reflecting the interior lighting of the garage.

"Chop things." Louise simply replied.

More material were on the way, with the Jumbo crew especially eager to get their hands on the new 76mm cannon.

A half hour into today's meeting, the commander's the team were then called to the second floor, to the conference room where Valarie and Ray were waiting for them. The team's match against New Zealand was on August 31st. Next Saturday. So, it was high time for the commanders to become familiar with the strategy Valarie and Ray has crafted. The room was dimmed and once the projector has warmed up, they were presented with a map of an expansive wilderness in Germany. It was filled with scattered forests with meadows separating them. Then they were the swamp and marshes, types of terrain that the team has yet to experience. Yet, there was one feature that overshadowed everything. A long river bisected the battlefield diagonally.

"As you can all see," Valarie started. "This river impacts how we fight considerably. It divides the field of engagement, with our starting area on one side of the river, with Port Chalmers on the other. Now, the river is too deep for any of our vehicles to ford through. The only way to get to the other side is here," Valarie pointed to the middle of the map where large hills were. These hills looked like it divided the river, but due to eons of erosion, the river managed to punch right through right under them to continue flowing. "An abandoned railroad tunnel. As it is the only way to cross the river with out tanks, our first objective is to seize control of it as soon as possible. We will move south-east to reach the tracks, and then follow them to the tunnel. With luck, we'll reach them before the enemy do, but combat is expected to happen there for sure. Once we secure the tunnel, ~Jackalope will stay behind to guard it and prevent escape. This way, we confine the enemy to just one half of the area of engagement. After that, it's search and destroy."

The commanders in the room nodded as the plan was explained to them. It was simple enough. Though for one, Cassidy, she rose her hand.

"Good plan, good plan, but ah, just a question."

"Yes?"

"Now, I don't dream about tanks like you, but since I've joined the team I've been reading a bit about tanks to know their names. First, they're too many tanks out there. Just, too much things to remember. Second, I read about these tanks that can swim. These Kiwi could have them. I mean, New Zealand is an island after all."

Valarie nodded at what Cassidy said. "Amphibious tanks are indeed a think and there is always the possibility of the enemy having a few of them on hand. But, we just don't have the numbers both have tanks guard the banks of the river and to take control of the tunnel. We just have to take the risk here. The tunnel is the most crucial objective here."

With that, the commanders of the team started to leave, but when the projector screen changed to a satellite view of a base of some kind, they returned to their seats, intrigued.

"We have a bit more news," Valarie told them. "The team has been invited to visit an army base here in Germany. Of course, we're going."

All in the room put on excited faces. A trip to an army base? No way in hell will something like that be boring.

"We will arrive this Sunday, though we will actually hit the road after practice on Saturday."

"Um, what?" Ray then asked. "Are we going somewhere else?"

"Yes!" Valarie exclaimed with immense excitement. "A place on my bucket list. The German Tank Museum in Munster. Oh man, they have an awesome collection! It would be a huge shame if we visit Germany and *not* go there. What do you guys say?"

"What kind of tanks do they have?" Natalie asked.

"Over 150 examples on display, ranging from WW1 to the Cold War Era. Featuring tanks from many nations along with a whole host of other military equipment from the ages. Such as a Tiger II, Hetzer, Panther, Hummel, Sturmtiger...I could go on, but I doubt you guys want me to list of every vehicle they have in their collection. It would be much better to see them up close and personal!"

The commanders in the room delivered a resounding yes, telling Valarie that they were just as excited to see the museum as she was. Now, the commander's meeting was at its close and everyone returned to their crews where the news was then spread. After more time fulfilling their regular duties, the team were dismissed and people headed back to the apartment complex to change out of their uniforms and get cleaned up. For Nora, commander of the SU-100, upon returning to her apartment she showered and thereafter put on more comfortable clothing; a t-shirt and red shorts. She brushed her vanilla blonde hair, whose length reached halfway down her back. Once her hair was all tended with, she shifted her attention to the desk in her bedroom. It was covered with cards along with a small pile of books. She sat at the desk and went through it all, organizing everything. Then, she got out a blank piece of paper and grabbed one of the books. Its title read,

_Tarot: For Witches in Training_

Nora had an intense fascination with tarot cards, the allure behind them full of mysticism and a bit of taboo. She got her cards and set them out on the table. Book in hand, she continued reading.

_"Most people, when they think of tarot, assume that it's used to predict the future. It's not a totally false assertion, but know this; tarot can only say what might happen, not will happen. Yet tarot is not merely a device for the future, it can be a wonderful way for people to gain guidance. Heed the reference pages at the back of this book for the meanings of the symbols on your tarot cards."_

Nora gathered her cards and shuffled them. As she did, she asked a question to them aloud.

"How will our upcoming match go?"

Though she knew tarot wasn't meant to predict the future, it was still fun to ask questions like that. She shuffled the cards then dropped them face down onto the desk, where she then crudely scattered them around the desk, still face down. After that was done, she grabbed a card at random and flipped to view it. It was the Seven of Swords. Looking back at the book, she reviewed what this meant.

_Seven of Swords - Deception. Trickery. Tactics and Strategy."_

"Hmm," Nora hummed. "Maybe. Maybe not. They sure is a strategy though."

She picked up her cards and piled them them up to shuffle them again. She thought for a few seconds as she thought about a new question. "Let's see...oh! Valarie is the captain. What does the cards see in her?"

She repeated what she did before and, with her eyes closed, chose a card at random. It was the reversed Ten of Wands. She referred to the book to learn the meaning.

_Ten of Wands - Reversed: Over-stressed. Burnout. Collapse. Breakdown_

"Huh. That doesn't sound like her at all. This sport is her life. What else do you have to say about her?"

Again, the cards were reshuffled and after the whole procedure was done, now had another card selected at random. It was the Queen of Swords, reversed. This one, Nora knew the meaning.

"Malicious, cruel, harsh, and bitter? Man, sometimes I think these cards are junk!"

Nonetheless, Nora continued to play with the tarot cards, continued asking questions and accepting and disregarding what she found. She wasn't a totally believer in the power these cards are purported to contain, but no one can deny they are fun to use, and, most importantly to Nora, the art of them were pretty damn cool. This was how she spent the remainder of her day, immersed in the world of tarot, loving every moment of it.

.

.

.

_Elsewhere_

_Stockholm, Sweden_

It was the late evening, and though the sun has just now sunk beneath the horizon, bathing the city in twilight, there was still a lot of activity going. People going to place to place, walking fast as if their lives depended on it. For most, these people are going to places like bars, restaurants, and clubs as the work day was over and now was the time to enjoy the nightlife the Swedish capital had to offer. For one man, though, he didn't have the time to go to a bar for a drink or to dine at the various restaurants that will surely give him a good meal. No, instead, he had a late appointment with a lawyer. Why the late hour? Well, he could blame his father for that, but to talk to him would require a Ouija board. The man walked toward the lawyer's office that was based right near Lake Mälaren, offering a grand view of the body of water. Arriving, the man approached the receptionist, who looked like she was ready to leave.

"Excuse me," he said, "I have a meeting with Mr. Holmberg."

"He's here," the receptionist answered. "an odd hour for a meeting, don't you think?"

"I know. Blame my dad."

The man walked on. He was familiar with this place, so he knew where exactly what room Holmberg as in. There, he knocked on the door.

"Come in." was the reply that came within.

The moment the man opened the door, he was greeted with a shout.

"ELIAS!" Holmberg exclaimed. He got up from his desk to shake his hand. "Good to see you!"

"Likewise, Karl." Elias responded. "You know why I'm here, yes?"

"Oh I do, I do. Not the most happy of occasions, hmm?"

"Karl, it's been ten years. It wouldn't be healthy to still grieve my dad's death."

"Ah, it has been a decade, hmm? Your father was a great man. An entrepreneur who saw the potential of personal computers before most did. Invested in companies the moment they were publicly traded and it paid off quite well. Made enough to never work again, and that he did! And we all know how he spent the rest of his days.

"Having fun doing pranks and creating adventures for people to follow."

"Oh yes, his pranks! I remember one where he ordered the construction of a barge out in the lake that looked so much like an ice berg. It was put in the lake in the dead in night so that the city would awake to find it. He even published some 'news' in the paper claiming that several ships had already been sunk by the iceberg."

"Then it was the adventures he created too, like how he published an ad in the paper with a list of instructions that led to some gold bars. People thought it was a joke, but then when one woman followed them earnestly, what did she find? Gold. Bars."

"He's was a bit of an eccentric, wasn't he?"

"That he was. Now, Karl, onto business."

"Of course," Karl went to a nearby safe and inputted the combination to unlock it. He retrieved a docket within and sat back down at his desk. But did not pass the docket to Elias.

"Um," Elias uttered. "The...docket?"

"You'll have to wait," Karl said as he checked his watch. "for thirty seconds."

"But...okay fine."

Thirty seconds elapsed when Karl then passed the docket.

"There you go. Sorry, your father specifically requested that the docket be given to you ten years _exactly_ after his passing."

"Ugh. He would do that."

Elias opened the docket and read the first few words, when he then let out a grin and a chuckle.

"Oh Dad, looks like you got one more thing for the world to do."

"If you don't mind me asking, Elias," Karl asked. "What do you got in there?"

"An adventure. One that overshadows all the others he did."

"And where does this all lead to?"

Elias again read the title of one of the papers in the docket.

_"The Adventure to End All Adventures; A Grand Hunt for a German Mechanical Gargantua."_


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the match with New Zealand inching closer, the Mojave Rose team is feeling the familiar pressure of the sport.

_Wednesday, August 21st 2013_

Heather has mostly kept to herself since the start of the semester. Only speaking to others when it was absolutely necessary. When she interacted with members of the team during and in between classes, she was a bit more chatty as she was more familiar and comfortable with them, though even these conversations were kept brief as that was how Heather preferred them. When it came to being with Ashley, however, it was a totally different story. She wasn't silent with her, as Heather was totally at ease when in Ashley's presence. When the two were together, Heather would talk at length about whatever topic that happened to occupy her mind at the time. She had an intense fascination for the unusual and the unexplained, which includes but are not limited to; alien visitations, poltergeists, alternative dimensions, cryptids, and all manners of conspiracy theories. A side of her that she has kept under wraps for fear that others would see her as 'weird' and keep their distance. Valarie and Emma had no issues with this more fantastical side of her and accepted her as who she was. With Ashley, she not only accepted it, but embraced it. The couple would talk at great length about anything mysterious, which Heather loved like nothing else in the world.

But today, to her dismay, she wasn't with Ashley right now. Unlike Valarie and Emma, the two girls didn't share a lunch period. So, when lunch time rolled around, Heather would just eat in relative solitude, and thereafter, would wander around the campus to get more familiar with the place.

Catalina was a rather large place so there was still more things for her to see. Walking about, Heather sighted a large domed building whose ornate architecture told her that it was a theater of some kind. The large double front doors were wide opened, so curious, Heather walked into the theater. In the lobby, she paused to look around. The carpet was a vibrant red that seemed to absorb the sound as the moment she walked inside, the noise of the area decreased dramatically. She looked up to see a grand tiered chandelier made of polished crystal that shined brilliantly thanks to a set of interior lights that were aimed right at it. The lobby was at the head of two hallways. Both lead to a theater, but each were a different kind of theater. Reading the some signs, Heather learned that one theater was dedicated for live action performances, mainly plays, and the other was used to play films made by students who are taking cinematography courses at Catalina. After a brief moment of thought, she elected to go down the hallway to her left, and found herself in a expansive auditorium with rows upon rows of seats that stretched on for much farther than Heather imagined. This building was bigger than it looked. At the far end of this auditorium was a fancy wooden stage with purple curtains pulled back on either side. Over head were stage lights, whose powerful lights were shining on the stage below. She began her walk toward the stage, the sound of her footsteps the only thing audible in the large room. Upon reaching the stage, she climbed on top of it, and turned to face the 'audience'. Even facing a sea of empty seats, it still unnerved her. She hated attention being brought on her, so the mere thought of standing before hundreds of eyes made her heart skip a beat. So, she moved backstage to not only get more comfortable, but to see what she could see. Here, she saw things that made her grin from ear to ear. Several racks filled with all kinds of clothes and costumes, fit for a play. She ran up to one of the racks and began to peruse through the selection.

"Wow. These aren't cheap store-bought rags. These are handmade," Heather remarked as she felt and examined the fabric. "High quality stuff."

She picked up the sleeve of a sweater and noticed that it had a tear in it. "Oh. I…just can't resist."

Heather grabbed the sweater from off the rack and sat herself at a nearby table. There, she dug out a sewing kit that was always in her backpack. A fine needle and a assortment of threat for any situation. With her skilled hands, the tear was repaired in no time at all. The sweater looked like it never had damage whatsoever in its life, with only a _very_ careful eye being able to notice the repair work. She admired her work and put the sweater back in the rack, releasing a satisfying sigh.

"That was nice of you." said a voice from behind.

Heather flinched at the voice, but noticed that there was a familiarity to it. She turned around.

"Oh hey," Heather noted. "You're that girl that gave us the tour when we first arrived on this ship."  
Alice nodded. "The very same. So, you're the type of girl who always has a sewing kit on hand? I like that."

"Thanks," Heather replied with a faint blush. "I do more than repair clothes though. I also modify them to suit my needs and create entire outfits from scratch."

"No way. You've made whole outfits?"

Heather nodded.

"Can I see some examples of your work?" Alice then asked.

Heather got out her phone and showed Alice the outfits she has created over the years. What Alice saw made her smile greatly.

"Oh man!" Alice exclaimed. "Did you really make that plague doctor get-up? Like for real?"

"It's be best project. Took forever to get it right, sourcing the right material and props."

"That…that's fantastic work. Like, not even kidding! Look, I know you're part of that tankery team and that it requires a lot of commitment and all that jazz, _but_, the theater department has been without a costume designer for ages now! We'd love to have you on board."

Heather placed a hand on her chin, deep in thought.

"Hmm," she hummed. "You got any sewing machines around her?"

With a smile, Alice beckoned Heather to follow as she was lead to a subroom backstage. Here, she was shown a room that hosted a few expensive-looking sewing machines that outclassed the one she used back home in California in every conceivable way. A long table stood in the middle of the room, covered with all sorts of colorful fabrics, scissors, measuring tape, pin cushions, yarn, and feathers of all things. Mannequins were scattered about the room, some of which were wearing half-finished costumes. On both walls were shelves. Each space on the shelves were occupied with all manners of raw material. Silk. Cotton. Leather. Denim. Polyester, and so much more. This was Heather's paradise.

"Oh. My. God," she uttered, using all of her strength to not let out a sequel of pure delight. "With a workshop like this, I can do _anything_."

"Impressive, hmm?" Alice remarked. "This place churns out quality outfits for out plays. Ha, bet you don't have to wonder why us theater kids have the best costumes when Halloween comes around."

Heather chuckled as she looked around the room to get a nice eyeful. "So, what happened to the last costume designer?"

"Ah, she transferred." Alice shared. "That's why the costumes on the mannequins aren't done yet. It was her work. One day she was here, doing her thing, then the next, she headed for a school in New York. It was all so sudden that it left our heads spinning. We didn't get a replacement mainly because we couldn't find anyone suitable enough to pick up where she left off. But thanks to serendipity, our search has hopefully come to and end."

"Did this girl do…everything?"

"Ha. No. Costume design is a team effort, especially when you gotta make a bunch of them. She was the head costume designer, working with a team to get things done."

"So, if I take the the job, I'd be the head costume designer?"

"Yes! With what you showed me you'd be an—"

"I'll do it."

"Aha! Well then! Welcome aboard!"

The two girls shook hands.

"Sweet," Alice continued. "We just got ourselves a new costume designer!" she paced around the room. "Now, if only we could find a piano player. Ha, you wouldn't happen to know someone?"

Heather laughed as she looked right at Alice. "I think I know a person."

_Later_

More material has arrived at the team's garage. The Stuart's crew has received their smoke mortars. Mia and her crew got to work to attaching them to the turret, which was a simple affair. Along with the mortar came with a nice supple of smoke rounds.

"Good stuff!" Mia exclaimed upon the work being done. "Now we can deploy smoke with an AP round loaded. We can pop off a shot, deploy smoke, and slink away!"

"I just think having these mortars make our tank look cooler." Olivia told her.

"Yeah, that too."

Nearby, the elevated VK was being worked upon by Marielle and her crew, who were happily tending to their tank's overlapping roadwheels. They were cleaned, maintained, and if necessary, replaced. For Marielle, having these heavy duty jacks on hand was sublime.

"This is so much easier, my god! So easier! Thank god!"

Elsewhere, the Jumbo crew were getting a little discontent. The sight of other crews getting their materials before them rubbed them the wrong way.

"Hmmph," Haley grumbled. "You'd think because it was our idea to get new things, that we'd get what we wanted first?"

"It'll still get here before our match, right?" Heidi questioned, the Jumbo's gunner.

"That, I can guarantee. I know it's a cannon and all, but what's the hold up?"

The rest of her crew shared her feelings. All except for Harper as her attention was placed on her phone. She didn't even know what they were so annoyed about. Danielle, the driver, glanced at Harper, who looked like she was in her own world.

"Hey Haley, Harper has been on her phone since the meeting starting. What's up with that?"

"I don't know. We aren't particularly busy right now, though I am curious about what's making her smile so much. I'll ask her."

Haley walked up to Harper and got her attention. The two conversed for a bit, their hands moving in a sophisticated, beautiful patterns. Harper and Haley have been close friends for several years ever since they met in middle school. Haley had taken upon herself learning sign language so that they could better communicate and over the years has become quite fluent. They conversed for several moments, with at the end, Haley sporting a smile.

"Oh, now you're smiling," Heidi noted. "What's up?"

"She's talking with a very lovely girl." Haley replied.

The Mojave Rose tankery team were doing their routine. A mixture of excitement and nervousness existed among each and every member of the team. A feeling that has always manifested in the days leading up to a match. Over at the T-44, Valarie was reviewing the team's strategy. In her hands was her playbook, her concentration dedicated fully to the maps and papers. Around her was the the rest of the team working, chatting, and laughing. She was the only one who was dead quiet. She flipped to a page and studied the map of the battlefield. Hr eyes scanned the river that divided it. The fact that the river existed made her uncomfortable. It stretched for miles on the map, and since Cassidy put the thought in her mind that Port Chalmers could field amphibious tanks made her more uneasy. The team simply did not have the numbers to both out sentries along the rivers and have enough firepower to seize control of the railroad tunnel as it serves as the only way to cross the river.

"More tanks," she whispered to her self. "We always need more tanks. Anything will do."

She sighed and closed the playbook. Valarie was sat on top of the turret of her T-44 in silent contemplation, gazing out to the far wall. She then chuckled softly. The team being short on tanks has been a problem since day one. It may be something they will always have to deal with.

"You done, ah, studying I guess?" Emma then asked her.

Valarie turned to Emma and gave her a grin. "For now. I'll take another look at it later, then once more, and more…you get the idea."

"Yeah, I do."

Emma hugged Valarie from behind and the two shared a tender moment. Below, Heather and Ashley were having a different kind of conversation.

"You're the theater's…what now?" Ashley questioned.

"Head costume designer. I got the role like _that_." Heather explained, snapping her fingers. "I showed Alice the outfits I've made and it impressed her."

"She'd had to be blind to not be! That's amazing, Heather!"

"Mmm, thanks! Oh! Also, the theater is also looking for a piano player for their upcoming musical."

Ashley narrowed her eyes at Heather. "…You didn't."

"I _may_ have mentioned your name."

"Heather!"

"What? Don't you play the piano along with the guitar? I remember something about a talent show and you getting in trouble…what were the details again?"

"Ah, it's a whole thing. But it's been ages since I've played the piano."

"It's been a long time since you played the guitar too but you've managed to play me a song with that angelic voice of yours. You got talent, Ashley."

Ashley blushed as she averted her gaze to the floor. "T-thanks. Ah, geez, I dunno."

"I didn't tell Alice that you'd for sure do it. Just that you'll think about it."

"Hmm," Ashley hummed. "I will think about it."

The meeting for today progressed as normal as ever and soon came to a close. The team were then dismissed and started their way out of the garage. Jacqueline was ahead of the pack, near sprinting back to the apartment complex. She had something waiting for her at her apartment. So excited was she that she ditched using the elevator and ran up the stairs to the third floor. Running down the hallway, she spotted two boxes in front of her door. Overjoyed, she picked up the boxes and rushed in to her apartment. She placed them on the table and picked out the smallest of the two. She opened it up and got out a case. Stored within were something she wanted for a long time. Aviator sunglasses.

"God damn _gorgeous_," she commented.

Jacqueline put them on and went to a mirror to check herself out. She looked great in her new sunglasses, combined with her uniform. She put on multiple poses to look as good as she could, having fun with it. Once that rather embarrassing bit was over, she took off her shades and hung them on the collar of her uniform. She set her sights on the remaining box, which was significantly bigger. It was opened and her eyes widened as she saw the contents within. An RC plane.

"This is what I'm talking about!"

Jacqueline tore open the packaging and got out the plane, which was in parts that had to be assembled. As it wasn't a plastic model kit, putting the thing together was dead simple. The two wings were attached to the fuselage and after making sure the electrics were connected, her craft was ready. What Jacqueline got was an RC P-51 Mustang with an distinctive red tail. She placed the plan on the table and admired it for several moments. It was a wonderful plane, and quite big too with a wingspan of three feet. She leaned in closer to examine all the beautiful details.

"Oh the weathering. So good!"

She grabbed the controller and switched it on. A green light flashed on it, and soon, a similar light appeared on the plane. After that, both lights turned blue, signifying that a connection has been made. She feathered one of the triggers which made the propeller spin slowly, producing a soft noise from the electric motor.

"Alright, that's enough of a flight check, so to speak. Time to get airborne!"

Jacqueline quickly switched out of her uniform and slipped into more casual clothing. Right after, she grabbed her plane and got outside to the courtyard in front of the complex. She placed the P-51 on the ground and with controller in hand prepared for take off.

"Skies are clear and no wind whatsoever. More than ideal flying conditions," out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a crow flying about. It gave her an idea. She was going to have some fun. "We gotta scramble! 109s are inbound!"

She pressed fully on the triggers and the props spun at full power. The P-51 rolled across the ground and once it got enough speed, took off. It immediately took chase on the crow, who was now freaking out at the strange bird right behind it. Convinced it was some predator, the crow flew faster and more erratically with the P-51 soaring to keep on its tail.

"Oh you got some speed to ya," Jacqueline remarked on her unwillingly aerial opponent. "Must be a late war model. A G-6. Maybe even a G-14. Wouldn't want that 30mm cannon in that nose of yours firing at me. I wont let ya get behind me."

The crow, which Jacqueline pretended was a Messerschmitt Bf 109, being more instinctively familiar with flight, successfully darted out of view. Jacqueline subsequently declared herself the winner of the 'dogfight'. With the area no longer being a combat zone, she went on to perform aerobatics with the RC P-51. Aileron rolls, loops, dives, zoom climbing, and even purposely stalling the aircraft to see if she could recover from a spin. She did, barely. The craft was mere feet from smashing into the ground when she then recovered and soared back into the air. After nearly destroying the toy she had just received, she now flew her plane around all peaceful like. While she was doing this, members of the team went about the rest of their day, doing whatever they have planned, paying no mind to Jacqueline. All save for one, who approached out of curiosity.

"Hey, watcha doing?" she asked.

Turning around, Jacqueline found that it was Aubrey, the team's newest commander.

"Just flying my new plane around," Jacqueline answered. "I also traumatized a crow a few minutes before by chasing it, if you also care to know."

"Oh…" Aubrey uttered. "I guess that's a way to have fun. So, what kind of plane is that?"

"A P-51D Mustang, American fighter. Armed with six .50 caliber machine guns, three on each wing, a maximum speed of four-hundred and forty miles per hour, and boasts an impressive combat record in both theaters of the war. They even shot down a number of those 262 jet fighters."

"You know your stuff about planes, huh?" Aubrey noted.

"Totally! If it flies, I'm all over it. I have more of a love for military aircraft. They are just…so cool! Last summer, my family and I went to an air show and it was amazing. All kinds of planes and helicopters doing fly-bys and so many kinds of tricks. Oh! The best part was when an F-18 buzzed by the crowd. Everyone screamed because the thing came outta nowhere!"

"That must've made your ears ring for sure."

"Yeah, it did. I'm used to loud noises though. Especially with the kind of vehicle I command."

"That Russian artillery," Aubrey remarked. "How loud is it when you're pretty much inside of it?"

"_Loud_," Jacqueline said slowly for greater emphasis. "We all have hearing protection, but man, does it only work so well. Plus, there is the vibration from firing the gun, and the heat from the spent shells. It can get _real_ warm in there after continuous firing. All of that combined…makes for a thrilling time."

"Is there a lot of math involved to get a shot off?"

"Definitely. The gunners get all the math done for the ballistics, and the rest of us help out to check their work. Well, almost all of us. Lana, being our driver and all, doesn't do the math part. Lucky…"

"Geez. Math," Aubrey said with a sneer. "Not my favorite subject."

"I feel ya, but being the commander of an self-propelled gun has its perks. Like this," Jacqueline dug into her pockets and got out an stopwatch. She passed it to Aubrey. "Check out the markings."

Aubrey brought the watch close to her eyes, and adjusted her glasses. "Made in West…West Germany?!"

"Yup! Nice and retro! And still works like a dream."

"What do you use this for?"

"Well, since my vehicle is positioned far from danger, usually anyway, our round travels farther than the other tanks on the team. The math we do not only gets our gun trained on some unlucky bastard, but also gives us a time-to-target. So, say from the match we get a time of ten seconds. Once the gun fires, I activate the stopwatch so that I know exactly when ten seconds elapsed."

"Alrighty, that's pretty damn cool."

"That it is. Well, that's enough about me. What about you?"

"Me?" Aubrey said, pointing to herself. "Well, ah, I love prehistoric animals. I want to be a paleontologist."

"Oh, you love dinosaurs? Yeah, they're pretty kickass."

Aubrey chuckled. "They so are. Hey, wanna know something cool about the every-famous T-Rex?"

"What isn't cool about that beast? All except its eyesight though."

"That's where you wrong."

"Huh?" Jacqueline remarked. "Are you saying that Jurassic Park is…inaccurate?

Aubrey nodded. "That movie is great, believe me, but when it comes to the facts…oh boy. You see, a T-Rex's vision was _not_ based on movement. No, no. It has been determined that they have a visual clarity thirteen times better than humans. The vision of modern day eagles are about three point six times better than ours. A T-Rex can spot its prey clear as day from up to six kilometers away. They not only have the best eye sight of all the dinosaurs, they have the best eyes in whole damn animal kingdom."

Jacqueline let out a whistle. "Woah. The tyrant king as all my respect."

The two girls smiled at each other and, together, they watched the RC P-51 fly around the area. The rays of the setting sun made the aircraft shine thanks to its reflective psuedometal material. Jacqueline put the plane in a steep climb, stalled it, and was now plummeting toward the earth. She then passed the controller to Aubrey.

"Here. Have a go at it."

_Elsewhere_

_England_

Martin and Gabrielle's European honeymoon continued, and the pair were having a grand time. They have spent enough time in France, seeing all the sights they wanted to see. Of course, they did the most touristy thing anyone could do by going to the Eiffel Tower in Paris. It was utterly crowded with tourists from all over the world, but nonetheless, they enjoyed their time and took lots of pictures. From France, they turned their attention to the United Kingdom. Traveling the Channel Tunnel, or chunnel as some liked to call it, they arrived in England by late day. They were driving to London to explore the city and just have fun. Gabrielle was driving this time around, with Martin in the passenger seat. With the setting of the sun, he was asleep. Gabrielle drove in silence on the motorway that lead to the English capital. As she did, she felt a bit of nausea that originated from she her stomach.

"Ugh," she quietly groaned. "Now is not the time. I'm _driving._"

About a mile was driven when another bout of nausea was felt, this time hitting harder.

"Oh come on. The moment you two are born, you're so grounded."

Her 'threat' has seemingly taken root as the moment she uttered it, the nausea dissipated. She now felt right as rain. "Ah, good girls. Or boys. I'll take either."

The drive continued in comfort for many more miles, though the monotonous sound of being on a motorway, with all the passing cars and trucks and the rumbling of the tires on the asphalt. It bored her, with even a faint feeling of drowsiness starting to manifest. To stay alert, she turned on the radio, its volume low as to not disturb Martin. She flipped through stations. Gabrielle was in the mood for some music, preferably rock, but it seemed like English radios don't play rock music. She sighed, and flipped through some more. She found a station that was kinda like a talk show which had a tank theme.

"—_and that wraps up our segment on what war movies depicts tanks accurately. To sum up, almost none of them. Listeners, we are approaching the nine o'clock hour and we still have much more content to go through. I'm pleased you choose to spend your night with me, your talented and beautiful host, Miss Vickers. Now, our nightly discussions tend to be about the more serious aspects of the sport and tonight is no different. Let's get right to it; do tankery athletes get some form of trauma or anxiety disorder as a result of their participation in the sport?A study by the University of Oxford sought to answer this question."_

Gabrielle softly grinned upon hearing what the radio said. "If I was asked this question, I would give one hell of an answer."  
She listened on.

"_The study lasted four years, following the tankery careers of various groups of students from schools all over the United Kingdom from Year 9 to Year 13. What they found was interesting. First was a before and after picture of the athletes, from the day they joined the team, to the day prior of their graduation and onto university. Of course the pictures were different, as in four years, these kids grow up. But Oxford found that these kids looked more…older than their non-tankery peers. Not totally different, however. For most of them, they only had little differences here and there. It was the team captains that had the more significant changes. Five team captains were in the study, and all had a strand or two of gray hair."_

"Hmm," Gabrielle remarked with a hum. She thought of her the team captain of the old Mojave Rose team all those years ago. She distinctly remembered seeing something silver in her hair but thought nothing of it back then. Then, her mind shifted to Valarie. Thinking about her, Gabrielle recalled back in the events center, prior to the wedding, she noticed something white that stood out in Valarie's hair. A bit more than one or two strands. "Damn. This sport is running you through a wringer. But, knowing you, you'd rather die than stop being in the sport."

She let out a small sigh and resumed listening.

"_What more about the team captains, they all reported that in the days leading up to matches, they tend to have difficulties falling asleep. Even more so when these matches have high stakes attached to them. One captain even admitted to having a panic attack the day before a big match. This study also looked at other events an athlete could experience that can contribute to them forming a stress or anxiety disorder. The failure of the carbon protection is one, for example an incident occurring in the United States in 1990. More recently, there was an incident at the Japanese nationals where a tank had portions of the ground shot out from under one of its tracks, making it slip down a hill and into a body of water. All involved survived, thankfully, though, well, you really don't need a study to determine if they really made it out of these events completely unscathed."_

Gabrielle had enough of the radio and switched it off, now preferring the monotony of the motorway. She had a lot to think about.

_Thursday August 22nd, 2013_

Catalina's student council was viewed as so important by the school that a whole class period was dedicated to it. In the mid-mornings, it was here where Madison, Alice and the rest of the student council gathered to perform the duties such an organization was expected to perform. Today, it was all hands on deck to finalize the preparations of Viola's arrival tomorrow.

"Alright, tomorrow will be without a doubt an important day for us," Madison told the council. "It's absolutely _crucial_ that it goes off without a hitch to have the best chance of persuading Viola of attending Catalina. Sylvia, how are we in regards to the budget?"  
The treasurer cleared her throat. " Well, we sailed past our budget for tomorrow's event by twenty thousand tell you the truth I, uh, I don't know what was bought."

"Catering." Madison simply replied.

"What catering service costs twenty thousand dollars?"

"High class ones from Berlin. They'll serve all kinds of premium, delicious food. This isn't just for Viola, but also for the student body. Might as well make tomorrow a party."

"But…that much money?"

"Don't worry, this is coming out of my pocket."

"Oh," Sylvia remarked, now at ease. "Well. It's your money,"

Madison gave her a nod, then turned to face the rest of the council. "You all have your responsibilities, and I have mine. We work at our absolute best, and we have this in the bag."

They all shared a cheer and the meeting was adjourned. Members of the student council returned to their desks in the room and buried themselves in their computers doing their regular duties. Madison was in her own corner, with Alice, the vice-president, in the desk next to her.

"How do you gauge our chances?" Alice then asked her in a whisper.

"Honestly, pretty good. Though, it's not taking into account Juliana's potential meddling. Thinking of her makes my stomach turn."

"Same. What is the game plan if she comes here?"

Madison pondered for several moments. "If she comes, she will most certainly make her way toward Viola and start her spiel on why Golden Gate is so much better than us, how the arts are pointless, and so on and so forth. All in German, of course, because she just has to know the damn language. We'll have to avoid her in a way not to tip of Viola."

"And what about Valarie? She'll be with you guys the entire time. Does she know about our _relationship _Juliana?"

"No," Madison sighed. "She doesn't have a clue. I don't want her to know because this isn't her fight. She has enough on her plate as it is."

"Alright. I can agree on that. Let's hope tomorrow goes as smoothly as possible."

"Amen to that. Now, I want to shift gears a bit. To get our minds distracted from all this. What do you know about tankery?"

"Is this a serious question?" Alice asked. "You and I has been to Valarie's matches since the very beginning. I think I know how the sport works. Plus, I've worked on getting her team tanks. I've found them that Type 97 from a school in Stuttgart."

"Yes," Madison said with a grin. "But is that all you know? What about the history about the sport?"

"Oh…well….in that way…nothing really."

"Are you aware that the sport of tankery was established way back I919?"

"No…it's that old?"

"Yup. And with a history like that, there is bound to be all sorts of juicy stories spanning multiple countries. I want to learn more about the sport. To increase my bond with Valarie."

"That is adorable, Madison."

Madison blushed. "Stop it…"

The two girls set out to learn all they can about the expansive history of tankery. It lead them down rabbit holes that only lead to more holes full of fascinating information that further increased their curiosity. The first ever world tournament was held in 1925 with France, unsurprisingly, taking the title of world champion. A feat that tankery teams in France are incredibly proud of, especially the school that won it all. A seemingly infinite amount of photos spanning various decades were scoured through, showcasing tankery teams of around the world. One picture showed Matilda in the Australian outback, with the crew lounging on the shaded side as they wait for their match to begin, sharing food and drink. Another showed a team of girls pulling out a STuG IV from a mud pit with the help of a Bergepanther, with the look on their faces showing that even in such a situation, they were still having fun. A third showed girls cleaning a King Tiger, their uniforms soaking wet. It looked like they were having more of a party than actually working on their tank. But not everything the girls came across put them in a jovial and wholesome mood. As Madison searched through an image collection, she found an archived picture of a poster from the Soviet Union, dated July 6th 1941. Translated from Russian to English, it read,

"_By the order of Comrade General Georgy Zhukov, all Soviet tankery athletes are required to assist in the defense of the motherland from fascist aggression. These athletes are to serve in tank corps to combat the forces of Germany in the battlefield. Tankery instructors shall be given commissions to serve in military training grounds to train future tank crews. Ladies, your contribution to the war effort will aide us immensely in this fierce struggle. The flame of revolution shall not be snuffed out!"_

Once she finished reading, Madison reclined in her chair and looked up toward the ceiling. She was stunned over what she just read. It never crossed her mind how World War II would affect tankery. After a moment of processing the information, she resumed searching more history, only to find something that was truly chilling. A statistic.

"_Prior to the German invasion, it's estimated that the Soviet Union had approximately 10,300 tankery athletes in various levels of competition. By war's end, Soviet records report that 4,565 of these athletes were killed in action."_

"Jesus…" Madison uttered.

"What is it?" asked Alice.

"Not everything about this sport is all sunshine and rainbows."

Alice moved over and read what Madison read.

"Holy hell," she gasped. "Nearly half were killed."

"You know what, I'd rather go back to thinking about tomorrow."

"Yeah…yeah. Me too."

The two girls ended their little adventure of learning the history of tankery and reshifted their concentration to what tomorrow will bring. Viola Wilhelm, descendant of royalty. Her attending Catalina would make the school that more prestigious, another person to add to an already impressive list of alumni. Madison wasn't particularly a religious person, but in the absolute privacy in her dorm, she did pray that tomorrow would be a great day to whoever was listening. Would tomorrow be a great day? A chance. A fun day? Maybe. Will tomorrow have everything go south? There's always the possibility. They are not many guarantees in life, with rolling the dice often the best way for people to continue on. But tomorrow did, in fact, have a guarantee.

It sure will be interesting.


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit from a princess.

_Friday August 23rd, 2013_

It was the crack of dawn. The sun had just breached over the horizon, its rays stifled by puffy clouds that had rolled it. Birds were just beginning to sing their melodies that serenaded the people that lived in Little Long Beach, whose songs would gently rouse people from their restful slumber.

Valarie and Emma did not get to hear the chirping of the birds. But a knock at their door.

"...Hmm?" Valarie muttered, her voice heavy with sleep.

"Someone is at the door..." Emma said with a yawn.

"Yeah, and I have a pretty good on who it is."

Valarie got out of bed, stretched, and walked toward the door. Once opened, it was exactly who she thought it was. Madison. She was wearing a business suit with a feminine flare, dyed in navy blue. There was something between her arms, though Valarie was not yet fully awake to dwell much though on it.

"It's not even 6 AM yet, Madison." Valarie told her.

"I know, and I apologize. I would normally not show up at such an early hour, but today is a special circumstance. You already know what's going on."

Valarie slowly nodded. "I do. But we're starting already?"

"In a way. First, you need to get fully awake."

Madison walked in and set aside what she was carrying. She moved to the kitchen and got started to get a cup of coffee prepped. Valarie sat herself at the kitchen table and waited for Madison to finish. Not long after, she was presented with a fresh cup of coffee. She took a sip and hummed in satisfaction.

"Oh man, this is some good coffee you made."

"I did say we are a coffee school. We know our stuff."

Valarie eagerly downed the drink and felt the caffeine work its magic. Now more alert, she was ready for the day ahead of them.

"Now to get you all dressed up." Madison informed.

She fetched the things she had brought and showed it to Valarie. It was a sleeveless business dress that hung just below the knees. Around the waist was a large ribbon. It was all dyed a splendid shadowy black.

"Oooh," Valarie uttered. "It's so beautiful and stylish."

"I'd knew you'd like it," Madison replied. She passed the dress to her along with a bag of accessories. "Put everything on. Let's see how they look on you."

Valarie went to her bedroom and into a walk-in closest. The closed the door behind her and got dressed. Madison waited to see her sister's new get up, with Emma, now fully awake, sat up in her bed and her eyes trained on the closest door. Two minutes transpired when the door then opened with Valarie walking out in her new attire.

"Alright," Valarie said, adjusting her dress. "How do I look?"

In addition to the sleeveless dress were stockings that too were dyed black that adorned her legs. For shoes, Valarie had a choice between flats or heels. As Valarie never before in her life has worn heels, and keenly aware of the learning curve involved, elected to go with the flats.

"Damn, does it all suit you so good." Madison said with a smile.

Emma didn't immediately respond, her eyes gleaming. She was entranced at Valarie's appearance. Valarie was already a beautiful girl, among all the other things she loved about her. Now, right before her eyes, Valarie has reached another level of beauty she didn't know was possible. Oh, how lucky she was to be with such a girl.

"You're gorgeous," she finally uttered. "Drop dead _gorgeous_!"

With all the compliments sent her way, Valarie entered into a deep blush. "Well then...thanks."

"Alright!" Madison then said with a clap. "Let's get this day underway."

* * *

"You look pretty damn fancy."

"Mmm, thank you."

On Golden Gate's carrier, Julian and Cassandra were having a chat. The two girls were aware that today will be a busy day for both of them for different reasons. For Cassandra, her energy will be devoted to trying to get Viola to transfer to her school and instead of Catalina. Plus, she looked forward to tormenting Madison in any way she can. If she could take Viola way from Madison, it would be a triumph. Such a thing would surely devastate her. Ever since the two had their fencing match

two years ago, Juliana has utterly despised Madison as the artsy girl has delivered her a horribly humiliating defeat. Since that day, she has been itching for a chance to some revenge and today will be her best chance to attain it.

Cassandra was excited for this day for a different reason. Reconnaissance. She didn't care about Viola or about Golden Gate's desire to have her attend. Honestly, she couldn't give less of a damn about any of this. The only reason why she transferred to Golden Gate herself was to use its carrier to go around the world for the tournament. That, and use the resources of Juliana, as she was quite wealthy herself, to aid in her personal crusade to 'save' tankery

"When will you go and do your thing with that princess?" Cassandra questioned.

"I'll head on over there an hour or so after Viola arrives at Catalina's campus. To give Madison a false sense of security. I'll then pop in and do what I do best."

They both chuckled.

"So, what will you be doing?" Juliana then asked. "You haven't really gone into much detail."

"Me and a couple of girls will be out and about Catalina's ship. Mainly to learn all that we can about Mojave Rose's captains. Though that'll be the responsibilities of others. My focus will be elsewhere, so I won't be on campus much.

"If you won't be on their campus much, where will you be?"

"I've looked up a map of their school ship and examined in thoroughly. Out of all the buildings I've combed through, I've found one that is suitable to house armored fighting vehicles and is close enough to both the campus and student apartments."

Juliana shot her a smirk. "Ah, a repeat of doing some 'maintenance' like last time?"

Cassandra returned the smirk in kind. "Let's see how the dice rolls."

* * *

Catalina's campus was a whole new definition of busy. All members of the school's staff were out and about finalizing the last preparations. Some were sprinting as they moved around, making sure balloons looked their absolute best, students on their best behavior, and the campus expunged of any and all blemishes that could otherwise hurt the school's chances of success today.

At the main entrance of the campus stood three girls who all felt various levels of nervousness.

"Why is it just us three?" Valarie remarked. "You'd think a visit from a German princess would have a lot more fanfare."

"This was her specific request," Madison told her. "She didn't want to arrive to some celebration. That's why its just us three and why the three of us will be the only people with her for the day."

Natalie, who wore clothing similar to what Madison had on, but in a light gray, was looking down the road. "So, we're looking for a limo or what?"

"No. She said she's walking here."

"Oh. Um. Does she has some sort of entourage with her?"

"She's alone."

Both girls looked at Madison with puzzled expressions.

"I thought you said Viola was a posh girl?" Valarie asked her.

"I also said she was also down-to-earth. That side of her must be dominating today," Madison explained. From the corner of her eye, she spotted one of the school administrators standing a distance away. The look on her face told Madison she wanted to talk. "Excuse me."

She departed and went straight for the administrator.

"Good mor—"

"I hope today works in our favor, Madison." The administrator said, cutting her off.

"Uh. Yeah. I hope so too. I won't let you guys down."

"Good. Now, me and the other administrators have been hearing that a member of the tankery team we're hosting is actually related to you. A half-sister, if I recall correctly. My, what are the odds?"

"...Yeah, yeah!" Madison said, feigning ignorance. "Like a one-in-a-billion chance!"

"Oh, I'm sure," the administrator said with a faint grin. "Get Viola, Madison."

The administrator walked off, leaving Madison to dwell on what was said to her.

"No pressure...no pressure."

She returned to Valarie and Natalie. The only thing now left to do was wait. It was nearing 9 AM, clouds still remained in the sky which made the temperature in the air nice and cool. A good thing as none of the girls were in any particular mood to break out in a sweet. Their senses were trained to here or see anything that could indicate an impending arrival. Through careful hearing, they then heard the squeaking of chains.

"That's a bike." Valarie deduced.

"Ah, must be some student whose late. I guess not even free catering can get some people out of bed soon enough." Madison remarked

The three of them were prepared to dismiss whoever was riding in but when the bike rider came into view, they couldn't help but stare. It was a girl were was wearing a silk blouse stylized after Chinese porcelain, its vibrant white-and-blue colors absolutely beautiful. In addition to that, she wore black slacks that covered her leather fashion boots. Her hair was short, just above her shoulders, and was a very light blonde, almost bleached. The girl also sported protective gear typical for bike riding. She wobbled slightly as she rode in.

"_Hallo_!" greeted the rider.

"Ha. Don't need to know German to know what she said," Valarie said with a little laugh. "That must be Viola."

"Yeah, that's her," Madison said. "She said she'd be walk—"

Her sentence was interrupted when all three girls suddenly saw Viola crash right in front of them. Viola was so preoccupied with her hellos that she failed to noticed that curb that her front tire hit. She was propelled over the front of her bike and landed on the concrete with a thud. The three girls gasped and rushed over to her. They were stunned to find her laughing. Viola helped herself up, dusted herself off, and started speaking.

"Um," Madison uttered. "What is she saying, Natalie?"

Natalie listened closely, sported a smile, and translated. "She said that if we can that she never rode a bike before. She passed by a bike shop and purchased one on a whim because she's sixteen and never had a bike before. She's okay."

Viola removed her gear and picked up her bike and continued to speak.

"Now she's asking where she can store her belongings." Natalie informed.

Madison pointed out an area where Viola can store her thins. Once she took care of that, she returned and looked at Natalie with a ponderous expression.

"_Sprichst du Deutsch_?" Viola asked

"_Ja_." Natalie replied proudly.

Viola grinned from ear-to-ear, pleased to meet a fellow German speaker. She then cleared her throat and a look of concentration was now on her face.

"My English," she said slowly, her German accent strong. "Not great, but I...want to show...you what I know. The, um...the ah, _Verdammt, was ist das Wort auf Englisch...Übersetzerin._ I enjoy the _Übersetzerin_."

"Translator," Natalie said. "She appreciates the translator."

"You're very welcome!" Madison said. "Now for some proper introductions. My name is Madison Force, the student council president of Catalina School of the Arts. This is my lovely sister, Valarie Woodlin, and our wonderful friend and translator, Natalie Welti.

Natalie translated for Viola.

"Madison, Valarie, and Natalie," Viola repeated. "Pretty names."

All three of them blushed. Viola then straightened her posture and placed her hands behind her back. She was well aware of her regal ancestry and was not afraid to flaunt it. Though she did have a side of her that can be considered down-to-earth, she has become accustomed to a life of privileges and luxuries that she fully expects a school like Catalina to provide.

"Shall we start?" Viola said.

"Of course," Madison responded. "We have quite the day in store for us."

The four girls walked onto campus and got their day underway. Madison gave Viola the same tour she had given to Valarie when she herself was new to the ship. Though, this time around, Madison gone into more thorough detail of all the aspects of the campus they passed by. The state-of-the-art gym and accompanying sauna were clear favorites of Viola as she was the athletic type. They spent a good amount of time in there as Viola wanted to see all the various exercise machines and equipment. When she was shown the pool, well, that was a cherry on top.

"Dies ist ein Paradies für Sportler." Viola remarked with some awe.

"An athlete's paradise, she says." Natalie translated.

"Damn right it's a paradise!" Madison exclaimed. "The gym, pool, and sauna, together, was a six million dollar project."

"Six million..." Valarie echoed with disbelief.

"I know right? The school got a great deal."

"Six million is a great deal. Alright sure."

Once Catalina's gym was thoroughly explored, the girls walked back outside. Madison looked toward a certain. She smiled.

"Say, Viola, are you hungry?"

"Das Essen in meinem Hotel war Scheiße. Ich habe nicht gegessen."

"What she say?"

Natalie hesitated. "Um. The food at her hotel...didn't meet her standards. She's starved."

"Well, lucky for her we got some all-star catering. Let's enjoy ourselves!"

They went to the building in question. As they walked, it was here that Viola saw more of Catalina's student body. Unbeknownst to her, classes were cancelled today. Though students were required to be on campus, the news that a catering service will be here today to provide superbly delicious meals for free was spread around the previous school day. That was all that was needed to convince students to come to school on their day off. Viola's visit was seen as an excuse to have a party of sorts and if she could see Catalina's students having fun and being all relaxed, that could be the needed edge to get her to transfer here.

They were outside the building and it was clear that is was busy, with a line stretching outside from one door, and a stream of students with plates of food exiting out an other. The aroma of something savory filled the air that made mouths water.

"I like this," Viola said. "I like it a lot."

"The caterers are from Berlin so they'll understand you. They're serving all sorts of dishes from around the world, known for their fusion dishes. You should get in line before it gets any longer than it already is."

Smiling, Viola promptly left for the line, entranced by the smell of cooked food. The three girls lingered a bit behind.

"It's going well so far, I think." Natalie said.

"So far," Madison repeated. "They're still more work to be done, more things to show her. I'm optimistic that we can pull it off...as long as," she paused to look around, as if she was searching for someone. "...Um. We can pull it off. I'm sure."

Valarie and Natalie couldn't dwell much on this strange action made by Madison as the sights and sounds of the catering distracted them.

"I'm just gonna," Natalie said, before sniffing the air. "I'm gonna get in line," She then spotted Ray. "Yeah, I'm definitely going. If you'll excuse me..."

She departed, leaving Madison and Valarie alone.

"Sorry for not talking much," Valarie then said. "I just don't know what to say that could help you out here.

"Don't sweat it," Madison replied, giving Valarie a sympathetic rub on her shoulder. "Talk when it feels right. Don't force yourself."

"Okay...I just feel a bit useless here."

"You're definitely_ not _useless. You're in a bit of a rut. I've been there. Want to know how I feel better?"

"What?"

Madison gestured toward the building. "Some great food!"

* * *

Just outside the main entrance of Catalina's campus, a small group of girls congregated. They were wearing casual clothing typical for teenagers. And good thing they were as for today, the students of Catalina were not wearing their usual school uniforms,as they too were wearing their personal outfits. As today wasn't technically a school day, the students weren't required to adhere to the school's dress code. All the better as it mean that these girls could waltz onto campus and blend in to the crowd. They had a mission to carry out. Cassandra stood in front to address them

"You all have your respective responsibilities. You all know what she looks like from the news article. Valarie Woodlin. She's most likely on campus on the account of the German princess visiting today, as the school is treating like some huge event. Seek her out and pretend you're like curious students, wanting to know about her experience in the sport. Ask detailed questions. By the end of the day, I want a comprehensive profile on her."

"We're on it." one of the girls said.

The group split off, with the majority heading onto campus. Cassandra remained where she stood, along with two others.

"You two are with me," Cassandra explained. "We're off to an garage."

Cassandra walked off with her helpers following in tow. Her phone was out as she was checking a map on it often to ensure that they were heading in the right direction. The garage in question was a fifteen minute walk away from the campus. The sounds of the active campus faded away to a mere murmur in the distance headed toward their destination. Their travels were uneventful, though Cassandra was vigilant of their surroundings, particularly keeping an eye out for any Catalina students as they could potentially be a member of the Mojave Rose tankery team. Cassandra wasn't entirely sure if the whole team would recognize her as she didn't know if Valarie informed the rest of the team of her actions. But she knew for certain that there was at least four members of the team that would absolutely recognize her.

Mojave Rose's captain.

The commander of the IS-3

The commander of the Jagdpanzer IV

And then there was this other girl.

Cassandra recalled after the match between Mojave Rose and her old school of Old Dominion, four members of Mojave Rose came to their private tent to, in her mind, 'bitch and moan'. They came and ruined everything. That recording sunk Cassandra's chances of lying her way out of the situation. They humiliated her. She understood why their captain and commanders of the IS-3 and Jagdpanzer came as she had directly affected them in some way. But there was also this other girl, who was rather tall and slender. Cassandra never understood who she was and why she was there. This girl never talked, but stared her down. Cassandra rembered that the hands of the girl twitched faintly, as if she was restraining herself from doing something. Whatever that something was, Cassandra has never figured out.

She didn't know what her problem was.

Soon, the three girls had the garage in sight. They kept their distance as they fanned out to ensure that the immediate are was vacant of people. It was. Cassandra then approached one of the side doors, placed her hand on the knob, and attempted to open it, though of course it was locked.

"Eh, thought so," she remarked quietly. She turned to look at the girls that came with her. "You two be on either ends of the street that lead up to this place. You're my lookouts. If you see someone that looks like they are coming to this place, send a text."

"Got it." the girls said, and went of to their positions.

Cassandra returned her attention to the side door and reached into her pockets. A lockpicking set was dug out and she got to work on the door. She had been practicing a whole lot in the ways of lockpicking since leaving Old Dominion. A few minutes of playing with the lock yielded a click, followed by the door being opened. She chuckled to herself.

"And in I go."

She entered the garage that held the vehicles of Mojave Rose. All of the machines were parked in a long neat row. The garage was clean, with all the tools and other items the team used to maintain their vehicles stowed away in their associated shelves. Her footsteps echoed greatly in the building, with them being the only sounds being produced. She found herself in the middle of the garage and stopped to ponder her next course of action. She was tempted to some sabotage like she did before, but since Mojave Rose's next match was over a week away, they had all that time to discover what she did and fix it. She was glancing around when her eyes then trained upon a light tank.

"An AMR 35, hmm?" she remarked. "You definitely didn't have that before."

She took a picture of the tank, and continued looking around. It wasn't long before she spotted something else.

"And a Type 97 too with the stubby 120mm. You guys will just take any tank, huh?"

Another picture was taken and her snooping around continued. As luck would have it, she stumbled across a huge crate on the garage floor. Looking down upon it, she read the markings written on top of it.

_M1A2 76mm GUN_

"An upgrade," she determined. "For your Jumbo."

She looked around the find the tank in question, and while doing so, sighted the Cromwell. With its mounted weaponry.

"Rockets?" Cassandra remarked with some surprise. "I do quite like tulips myself.

Both the new gun and tulips had their photos taken. Cassandra took a lap around the garage to see if she could find anything of note to photograph but found none. She paused to contemplate what could she done.

"Any team needs an office for administrative stuff," she pondered aloud, then spotted a set of stairs. "An office has all sorts of goodies for a person like me."

She went up the stairs and walked down a hall to one of the doors. There was a window right by it. Peering through, she saw that it had some computers and filing cabinets within.

"Gold."

She again dug out her lockpicking set and got to work on the lock. She could feel the door about to open by her commands when she then felt a vibration in her pocket. She stopped and checked her phone. She received a message.

_"Two people heading right for the garage."_

"Shit."

Cassandra dropped what she was doing and headed back downstairs. She ran toward the side door she had used when she heard it being opened. She stopped dead in her tracks, and quickly hide behind the VK. She slowed her breath and listened intently as footsteps filled the garage.

"Is it here? Is it here?" one of the voices exclaimed.

"It should be!" another rang out. "Ah! There! C'mon!"

Cassandra heard Haley and Heidi as they excitedly approached the crate. Haley grabbed a nearby crowbar and pryed open the crate, revealing their new gun in all its glory.

"So beautiful," Heidi remarked with a please sigh. "And the muzzle break makes it so damn cool."

"That is does," Haley responded. "Mounting this thing will be fun, I just know it!"

"Alright, so wanna go on campus as see what this catering stuff is all about? And why are they here anyway?" Heidi asked.

"Who knows, and who cares! Free food!"

The two bolted out of the garage, closing the door behind them. The place fell into silence thereafter. Cassandra emerged from her spot behind the VK and finally allowed herself to breath. That was her cue that she has been her long enough. She made her way toward the door but caught something gleaming in the sunlight. On top of a tool box was a solitary key. She grabbed it and held it close to her eye. Etched on it was the word 'spare'. She quickly tucked it into her pocket and now exited the garage. She motioned to her lookouts to join her as they all walked away at a brisk pace.

"You find anything good?" one of them asked.

"A fair bit," Cassandra told them. "Though I was _this_ close to finding more good stuff, but I had to bail. Though I got a good feeling that we'll be coming back here," she tapped her pocket. "I'm not done with that place, not by a long shot."

"So what are you gonna do with the stuff you did find?" asked the other.

"Well, considering that they'll be facing off with the New Zealand team next Saturday, I'll post what I found online in a way that the New Zealand team will just come across them. They'll think nothing of it as they take the info and use it accordingly. No one will ever know the photos were taken by me. Now, let's do another risky thing."

"Like what?"

"I overheard some catering thing on Catalina's campus. I want to swing by. I skipped breakfast today and I'm famished."

* * *

On campus students were strewn about, a jovial atmosphere felt and enjoyed. The air was pleasantly warm, the birds sand their songs, and butterflies flew. There was an ever-present sound of conversation and laughter as Catalina's students hung out as they ate the meals provided by catering. They were nothing short of excellent, with something for everyone. In an area full of outdoor tables, Madison and the rest of the girls were eating together. Viola, with a knife and fork in hand, cut off a piece of her filet mignon and held it closely to her eye. It was pink in the middle.

_"Perfekt."_

She took a bite and enjoyed the heavenly delicious morsel. Madison had a huge smile on her face knowing that the catering was definitely pulling its weight.

"So, Viola, how are you finding the school thus far?"

"Fancy," Viola replied after taking another bit of her meal. "Very fancy."

"Fancy is what we do. By the way, your English is pretty good."

"Thanks. I know few words. I'll learn more."

"I have no doubt that'll you become a fluent speaker in no time."

Viola stared at Madison blankly for a moment, then looked at Natalie.

"_Was hat Sie gesagt?_"

"_Sie sagte, Ihr Englisch wird sehr bald großartig sein_." Natalie translated for her.

Viola grinned. "Ah! Thank you!"

They continued eating. All the while, Valarie had a question brewing in her mind. Something she was curious about since she first learned who Viola was and her family background.

"Viola," she began. "You probably get this question a lot, but, how do you feel knowing you're related to a person like Kaiser Wilhelm the Second?"

Natalie translated the question and all three girls at the table waited her response. Viola set down her fork and knife and thought for a moment.

"If I had to have a German leader as family," she said in English. "Better the first war than the second."

It took a moment before all four at the table erupted into laughter.

"Oh thank god for that, huh?"

"Yes, thank the lord!"

As the group ate and chatted together, a boy and a girl sat at a table not too far from them.

"You are the pickiest eater _ever_!" Cassidy exclaimed. "Of course you went for the burger and not things like sushi. You always order burgers are restaurants never anything fun and interesting."

"I like comfortable things," Nathan told her. "And burgers are comfortable. You're the weird one who likes to eat raw fish. That can't be healthy."

"It is healthy and so delicious that I'm mad that you're missing out! Hey, you did ask for any veggies on your burger?"

"I have onion rings."

"That doesn't count, its fried."

"Yes it does! Onions are vegetables!"

"All the nutrition is lost when its fried!"

"It tastes good!"

"Ugh, alright, here. I have some sliced tomatoes. Put them in you burger."

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's cold."

"W-why is that a problem?"

"I dont want cold things in my burger."

Cassidy buried her face in her hands for a sold few seconds. "Okay. Okay. Eat your burger. But the next time I make a health smoothie, by god, you better drink it."

"Fine."

"Why is there food here anyway?"

"Beats me."

"Can you ask?"

"Ask who?"

"Valarie is at the other table."

"Pfft. Your question. You go ask her."

"You're the commander, I'm not. It's only right for you to talk to her. A private in the army wouldn't just go up to the general to ask him something."

"This is a sports team. Not the god damn army!"

"Please?"

Cassidy rested her head on the table, then got up from it "You know what? I will. Going to the captain? Not a thing for babies, such as yourself."

Nathan took a big bite of his burger and gave her a huge grin that irritated her. Cassidy walked the short distance toward Valarie's table, her approach noticed by them, and sat herself next to Valarie, her brazenness stunning them all a bit.

"Hey Val," Cassidy greeted. "How's it going? Damn, you look all formal and shit. All of you do, actually. Y'all going to some opera?"

"I'm doing good, Cassidy," Valarie replied. "And no, we're not going to the opera. We're dressed for the occasion."

"Occasion, huh? Yeah, I've been wondering about that. What is this all about?" Cassidy said as she gestured her hands to the air. "Like, what's with the food. Not that I'm complaining because I, unlike my brother, actually enjoy more than one kind of food. Is it some rich kid's birthday or something?"

"No," Madison then said. "All of this is for a special person who is visiting the school today."

"Must be some special person. Lemme guess, the freaking Queen of England?" Cassidy joked.

"You're closer than you think," Madison told her. "For she is from royalty. A princess to be exact."

"No shit?"

"No. Shit."

"Damn," Cassidy said, letting out a whistle. "I bet I missed her while getting some food."

"You're in luck. She's right here." Madison said, pointing to Viola, who was amused by the whole conversation.

Cassidy's face blushed a deep red. "Oh. Um. Right. Uh, hello."

"_Hallo_." Viola replied.

"Viola here is visiting out school as she wants to transfer to an American school, so she's shopping around, so to speak." Madison explained.

"So she wants to experience the American life, hmm? See what we have to offer to her?" Cassidy asked.

"Exactly."

"Nothing is more American than baseball! I can show Viola how the game works. Me and my brother were about the head to the school's field to do some practice after we ate if you guys wanna come."

"Hmm, I dunno if our schedule would..." she paused. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure that rattled her soul and left a bitter taste of poison in her mouth. A girl that she prayed wouldn't come, but as it turns out, no one was listening.

Juliana.

The girl was walking about as, no doubt searching for them. At the moment, she didn't see them.

"One second thought," Madison then said. "That actually sounds pretty fun! Let's go to the field. Like right now. And fast."

"Alright!" Cassidy exclaimed.

Madison lead the group as quickly and discreetly as she could, making sure that Viola was in front so that all the people would block her from view from Juliana. The school's field was on the other side of campus, which was good for Madison as getting distance between her and Juliana would sooth her nerves. Within a few minutes, they'd arrived. Cassidy and Nathan had brought a bag with them and set it on the group. It was unzipped, Cassidy got out an aluminum bat that shined greatly in the sun.

"Oh yeah, I'm totally in my element." she said with a grin.

She swung the bat around to limber up, then handed it to Viola.

"Wanna get to know America? You gotta play baseball. You familiar with the sport?"

Natalie translated the question.

"A little. You hit ball and then run, yes?" Viola asked.

"That's pretty much it. Though we'll just doing some batting practice for now."

Viola grabbed hold of the bat. The rest of the group gave her some space as she swung it around to get a feel for the thing. She had a smile on her face. A huge one. Once she got used to the feeling of swinging a bat, she nodded toward Cassidy.

"Ready? Alright! Nathan, stand behind her as you're the catcher. I'm the pitcher. The rest of you girls, um, just stand there and look pretty."

Nathan slipped on a catcher's mit and got in knelling position behind Viola. Cassidy got some baseballs with her and readied herself. The area got quiet. Viola held the bat tight and was a batter's stance. A few moments went by as Cassidy stared down Viola, a grin slowly forming. In a motion she had done countless times before, she pitched the ball, it flying straight and speedy. Viola swung, but the ball was already in Nathan's hands before she even realized what happened.

"Prediction is key," Cassidy told her. "You gotta know where the ball will be before it gets there."

Viola stretched and got in the stance again. Cassidy reached for another ball and threw it. Same result. Viola swung and miss.

"_Verdammt_."

"Jackie Robinson missed too, y'know. Keep trying."

Viola then asked a question.

"She says if the ball just hits the bat, does that count?" Natalie said.

"Yeah, for sure."

They readied for another attempt. Cassidy threw another ball where then Viola thrust the bat in front of her, where the ball hit and bounced off toward the ground, coming to a stop after a few feet.

"What? You bunted?" Cassidy remarked.

"That counts." Natalie told her.

"Yeah, well, sure, if you wanna play that way. But a bunt doesn't get the crowd at a stadium all fired up, them screaming and yelling at what they're seeing down at the field. No, what gets the crowd wild is a home-freaking-run."

"Show me, please" Viola asked her.

"Gladly. Nathan, you're pitching."

Viola handed the bat back. Cassidy got into a batter's stance, with that alone telling everyone that she was experienced and knew what she was doing. Nathan was ahead of her with a ball in his hand, ready to pitch. Though Cassidy was the one who had an undying love with baseball, her younger brother enjoyed it too, though to an lesser extent. Over the years, Nathan has been Cassidy's training partner and together, their skills were honed and they had developed a wonderful synergy. Brother and sister were in their respective stances. Nathan then threw a ball right at Cassidy. Time seemed to low down as she focused intently on the ball. In her mind, she calculated the precise moment when to swing. It all happened so fast. Cassidy swung her bat and smacked the ball with a loud wack, sending it flying over the field, a fence, and disappearing out of view behind building outside the field.

"Get outta here!" Cassidy exclaimed with joy. "That's a homerun right there! All the runners are booking it to home plate, one point, two points, three points! Thaat's it! The Cubs win! One day...One day," she paused to compose herself. "Alright Nathan, go get the ball."

"Ugh," he sighed. "Fine."

"Hold on now," Madison then said. "Don't you know what's behind that building?"

"Um. No?"

"The. Ocean."

"What?"

"You hit your ball in the ocean."

"Oh,_ hell_ yeah! I'm knew I was the best!"

Viola clapped. "_Wunderbar_!"

Cassidy took a bow. "Thank you, thank you. Just me being great, no big deal."

"Thank you Cassidy for the baseball lesson. We'd love to explore more of the sport, but we're pressed for time here." Madison explained.

"I getcha. Gotta see all the fancy stuff this place has. And lemme tell ya, it has a whole bunch. Oh, and Viola, if you ever transfer here, I can teach you more about baseball. I'll make you a pro like me!"

Madison gave Cassidy an approving nod and they departed, leaving the brother and sister duo to play ball.

They left the field and returned back to campus. They were still more aspects of the school remaining to show off to Viola. One such thing was the school's art museum, whose exhibits were created entirely by students. It was closed today, but Madison had special access to the building. The group entered the stone-built museum and found the place incredibly quiet as the outside noise was perfectly muted thanks to the thick walls. It was a cool place too, wonderfully air conditioned. Immediately upon entering, they were all greeted with a marble statue of a Roman god in a war-like pose, holding a sword high in the air.

"Every thing you see in this museum was made by students," Madison explained. "Even that statue right in front of us. It was crafted carefully and painstakingly with a hammer and chisel by a team of students who graduated 17 years ago. Exhibits here are rotated here regularly to show off new things, but this statue has remained since its first appearance. A testament to its quality, and to the kind of students this school can produce."

They stood before the statue, its magnificence being felt by them all. Viola stepped forward and laid her hands on it to feel the texture of the marble. It felt good on her hands and rubbed them on the statue.

"You're not normally supposed to touch museum exhibits, are you?" Valarie wondered.

"Oh, just let her have her fun," Madison responded. "Do it yourself if you wanna."

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Suit yourself."

More of the museum was explored. They went down a hall with both walls adorned with student paintings that were exceptionally well-made. Paintings of nature were very popular, with scenes Valarie recognized as being from Inspiration Part, the exact place the team holds their practices. In another section, was a collection of pottery that came straight from the school's kilns. They were colorful and each contained interesting and intricate designs. Viola looked at each piece of pottery, getting an eyeful. Her hands remained behind her back as she examined the art.

"_Alles handgemacht von Studenten. Unglaublich_"

"She's amazed that everything here is handmade by students." Natalie relayed.

"MmmHmm," Madison hummed. "There is an upcoming art exhibition next month featuring a whole new set of student-made paintings. These exhibitions are always fun and popular. You definitely don't want to miss something like that."

"We'll see." Viola responded.

The rest of the museum was explored and enjoyed. Soon, it was time to leave the building to head on to their next point of interest. As they walked the campus, Viola asked where was the bathroom as she had to make a trip. One nearby was pointed out and she went off. Valarie, Natalie, and Madison sat down on some benches to await her return, and to talk about the day thus far.

"I was optimistic earlier but now, I'm unsure." Madison admitted.

"Why so?" asked Valarie.

"Viola likes this place, that I can feel. But does she like it enough to transfer here? I have no clue. We still got a few more places to visit like the theater and concert hall. I just hope those places are enough to win her over."

"I hope so too. I understand how much her coming her means so much to you."

"Thank you, Valarie."

The two sisters exchanged smiles and waited. It wasn't long before Viola returned. Though, right as the group was to resume their tour, a girl approached them. She went straight for Valarie.

"Ah, hello," she said. "You are that tankery captain, right?"

"I am." Valarie responded.

"Oh! That is supremely cool, like not even kidding. You mind answering a question?"

"Not at all. Go for it."

"When you make your strategy, what is your thought process?"

Valarie shifted her gaze to the floor to think for several moments. "The essence of my strategy is adaptability. I've researched many tankery teams who go in the opposite way, who are rigid in their strategy, where orders are followed to the letter and any deviation is strictly forbidden. In some circumstances, this can work as this instills discipline in a team so that when they take on expected threats, they do not falter and execute their orders flawlessly. But what about unexpected threats? You can _never_ rule them out. Say you have a group of tanks assaulting a team on a hill. You had the advantage in firepower and numbers. But then, a sneaky Hetzer comes along and rums amock in your ranks. What do you do? You never trained for such a scenario so you never anticipate such a thing. You panic. Your rigid strategy shatters, and the enemy teams takes advantage. So, when I create my strategy, yeah, they are objectives to be done and routes to follow. But I don't have the mentality to blindly stick with them. If the plan has to change, it will, and it has."

"Wow. That is some solid gold stuff, like damn. Thank you" the girl said, who then left shortly thereafter.

"Did you already have that in your head or did you come up with it on the spot?" Madison asked.

"It's been in my head since before the team even existed. To be an adaptable commander. It just felt more natural to me."

Viola, who has listened to the whole conversation and picked up a few English word here and there, got the gist of what was said.

"_Panzerfahren_?" she questioned. "_Du machst Panzerfahren_?"

Valarie nodded. "I don't need a translator to know what you just said."

"_Was ist dein Rang_?"

"_Kapitänin_." Natalie answered on Valarie's behalf. "_Wir sind in den Länderspielen_"

"_Wir_?" Viola singled out. "_Bist du auch ein Teil davon_?"

"_Ja. Teil des amerikanischen Teams_."

"Hold up, what are you two saying?" Madison inquired.

"I've told her that me and Valarie are part of a tankery team currently competing in the internationals."

Viola turned back her attention to Valarie. "Wie oft wurden Sie beschossen?"

"She asks how many times have you been shot at." Natalie translated.

Valarie chuckled. "Too many times to count."

Before Viola could get a chance to ask many more questions about Valarie's experiences in the sport, another girl walked up to them.

"Excuse me, but, ah, I hear you're that tankery captain." she said.

"You got the right person." Valarie told her.

"Cool! I've got these questions that have been burning in my mind for a while. Mind helping me out?"

"Might as well get a streak going. Ask away."

"Alright. How would you describe your mindset in commanding your team? Are you authoritative? Or more easy going? Or some kind of mish-mash of the two? If someone on your team fails to carry out a certain task, what do you do with them? And, finally, what do you expect from your team?"

"Oh man, that's some question. Give me a sec," Valarie said as she pondered. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm some totally different person when in a match commanding. Though, there is for sure a difference that I and my friends can feel. So, I guess a tad more authoritative but not like a drill sargent or anything. I treat my team like they're my peers because, well, that's who they are. Actually, no, not just peers, but as friends. We all respect and appreciate each other here. As such, if people on the team fail, I don't get mad. Because I know it in my heart that they tried their damned best. And their best is all I want from my team."

"Fascinating stuff," the girl remarked. "Heh, you should write a book on all this."

She walked off, leaving a blushing Valarie.

"My, you sure are getting some attention today." Madison noted.

"Yeah," Valarie replied. "I kinda like it."

Viola enjoyed the attention Valarie was getting too. She has grown more fascinated with Valarie by the second. When she first met earlier in the day, Viola saw Valarie as just a sibling to her host for the day. But, now, she understood that Valarie was someone more. A person who has done things she herself could never dare to do, being in a steel box as others shoot at you. What more, from all the conversations she had listened to, it was clear to Viola that Valarie possessed a great capacity to lead others to victory. She wanted to learn more.

"Let's move on shall we?" Madison then said. "We have a theater to visit."

Viola raised her hand. "One moment. I want to learn more."

"About what Valarie does?" Madison asked for clarification.

"Yes."

Madison didn't even think about her request. This was something that she hoped would happen, the topic of tankery being brought up with Viola asking about it. What more, it happened naturally, as least, naturally as far she was concerned. From the look on Viola's eyes, Madison could tell that her interest in what Valarie does was great and genuine. This could be just the thing she needs to reel her in.

"Hmm, then what better way to know what she does than meet more members of her team? You know that girl and her brother that showed you baseball? They're part of the team too!"

Natalie translated, with Viola now sporting a puzzled face

"_Sowohl der Junge als auch das Mädchen_? _Ich dachte, der Sport sei nur für Mädchen_?"

"She says she thought tankery was a girls-only sport." Natalie informed.

"Um," Madison uttered. "Valarie, this is your area of expertise."

"I don't really care about gender," Valarie remarked. "I just want people who are passionate about the sport as I am. People who love what it represents and what it can do for you. Oh, and, also, mandating a female-only team would be illegal."

Natalie translated what was said to Viola. She slowly nodded.

"Ah, the more the merrier!" she exclaimed, recalling one of the few expressions she knows in English.

"Yes, exactly!"

"Now, let's see if we can find a member of the team to talk with," Madison announced. "Valarie, see anyone nearby?"

Valarie stood on top of a bench to command a better view of the area. She scanned around, her vision jumping from group to group when she sighted a familiar face.

"Found one," she told them. Valarie then raised her voice to get their attention. "Louise!"

Not too far away, Louis heard her voice and turned to look at where it came from. She saw Valarie waving at her to come over here. Louise excused herself from the group she was with and headed right for her. But it was not Valarie who greeted her, but rather Viola, who instantly became enamored with her and ran up to Louise.

"_Ein amerikanischer Ureinwohner mit Gesichtstattoos_! Woah!'

"...I heard tattoos." Louise remarked, a bit unsettled with how Viola was close to her.

"She's amazed to see someone like you." Natalie told her.

"I can tell. Not many Native Americans go to Germany, I take it?"

Natalie translated, where then Viola shook her head.

"Never seen someone like you before," Viola told her. "Only in cinema."

"In movies?"

"_Ja_!" Viola exclaimed. She snapped her fingers repeatedly to remember a certain word in English. "Ah...ah...Westerns! That is it. My favorite kind of cinema!"

Louise sensed an opportunity to do some cultural outreach and went for it.

"Those movies are fun and all, but they're really aren't that historically accurate. Especially when it comes to depictions of Native Americans. If I may, I would like to tell you about my tribe and what these tattoos mean to me."

Viola, overjoyed, eagerly sat down on a bench, and with Natalie in tow, they lost themselves in conversation. Madison stepped back and just let it happen. It was all so perfect.

"I have a great feeling about this." Madison said with a pleased sigh.

"She's fascinated by Louise," Valarie said. "And I can't blame her."

"Day's not half over and I think we got this in the bag."

They smiled at each other. Madison let her eyes wander around when she saw something that sucked all the good energy away from her.

"Ah, I see a 'friend'," she told Valarie. "I'm going to say hi real quick. Stay here with Viola."

"Gotcha."

Madison left and marched toward Juliana, who was headed their way. The two meet in the middle of a walkway. Once Madison got close enough, she jumped right into it.

"You can fuck right off."

"Madison, wow, what have I done?" Juliana said with a feigned innocence.

"It's not what you have done, but will do. I know the bullshit you pull at other schools, stealing promising students to take back to the prison that is Golden Gate. Alcatraz was a happier place. They let the prisoners play instruments for god sakes!"

"You're putting down my school? I came here and what do I see? Lazy student just lounging around not doing a damn thing. Just stuffing their mouths."

"Today isn't a school day. Everyone has a day off on the account of Viola's visit."

"Day off?" Juliana sneered. "Typical art school where people can take a break for no good reason. You're all lazy and worthless. Your school pumps out people who can only put color on a piece of paper. Mine pumps put people who makes the world turn. People who actually contribute to society."

"Oh, go fuck yourself."

"Real mature."

Juliana attempted to walk toward Viola but was stopped by Madison.

"Uh, no. You're not going anywhere."

"Is this the hospitality Catalina is known for?"

"Oh, we're hospital. Except for people like you. Get out of here."

"Make me bitch."

They stared down each other for several moments. Madison so desperately wanted to hit her, but starting a fight in a public place and well in view of Viola would be the absolute worst thing to do. She can't start a scene. She just cant. She exhaled sharply, and extremely reluctantly, moved aside.

"That's what I thought." Juliana remarked, her words stung like venom.

Juliana resumed her walk and approached the group Viola was apart of with Madison following right behind her. Though, right as Juliana was about to get Viola's attention, she spotted Valarie. The tankery captain that Cassandra has gone on and on about. She looked at her for a moment, then looked at Madison. She did this multiple times.

"This girl your clone?" Juliana asked.

"I'm her sister." Valarie answered, curious on who this new girl was.

Madison gritted her teeth. Though she didn't want Valarie to know about her rivalry with Juliana, she still didn't like that Valarie revealed such information to her. Though, it couldn't have been prevented without drawing suspicion.

"Sister?" Julian said with a surprised tone. "But Madison is an only child."

"It's a whole thing. We're half-sister technically but we just call each other sisters because it's easier and that's who we are."

"Interesting. Very interesting. Say, you are, ah, trying to remember, a tankery captain, yes?"

"You're the third person to ask."

"Intriguing."

"I bet you have a question."

"I do actually. I'm not that well versed in tankery so I'm curious to know if anything in your personal life could potentially influence how you conduct the sport."

The question brought some bad memories for Valarie. She felt her heartbeat quicken.

"For myself, yes," she said in a plain tone. "All sorts of things in my personal life can influence how I conduct the sport and draft up my strategies. Good...and bad."

Juliana nodded. "I see. Thank you."

She then approached Viola who was still in the middle of talking with Louise. She calmly waited for the most opportune moment to get Viola's attention, when then she spoke to her in fluent German. Viola was charmed being spoken in her native language and the two entered into a conversation. Madison gestured Natalie over to her.

"Tell me, what are they saying?"

Natalie listened in closely. "They're just exchanging pleasantries...now they're having small talk."

"Textbook," Madison muttered under her breath. "Butter them up to scoop them up."

"You got some history with her?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Yeah," Natalie said. "I can relate to that."

They continued to monitor the conversation when they noticed things take a turn. Juliana asked Viola a question and the response she got wasn't what she expected at all.

"Oh, what now, what now?" Madison asked.

"She asked Viola when she would visit Golden Gate, with her saying that she no longer would."

"You're kidding!"

"I'm not. Viola told her she has made up her mind."

"Is it us?!" Madison said with huge excitement.

"She didn't say who, calm it down."

Viola then stood up from where she sat and walked toward Madison. With her hands behind her back, she cleared her throat. "This day has been fun. I've made my choice," she focused hard to remember all the English words she knew. "I shall transfer to Catalina."

"What?" Juliana remarked, stunned. "Why this place?!"

"_Die Atmosphäre spricht mich hier an_"

"She has good vibes with this place." Natalie informed the rest of the group.

"And..." Viola then said. "Her." she said, pointing to Valarie.

"Me?" Valarie remarked.

"_Ja_. You're interesting, and you're team too. I...want to learn more from all of you."

"You'll definitely being seeing more of us."

Juliana scoffed at all of this and started to walk away. Madison quickly caught up with her, with the hugest smile on her face.

"Oh, leaving so soon?" Madison mocked. "Have you tried the exquisite catering service yet?"

Juliana turned to face her. They were mere inches apart.

"Go fuck yourself and this school." Julian swore.

"Ohhh, that's not very mature of you." Madison remarked.

"You're going to get beaten one of these days. And you'll deserve it."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a fucking promise."

With that, Juliana stormed off, with Madison watched her leave with overwhelming satisfaction. She returned to Viola and together they hammered out final details. The day has come better than anyone could have possibly imagined.

* * *

Elsewhere on Catalina's campus, Heather was enjoying the festive mood with Ashley. The pair were reclining against the base of a palm tree.

"Can't go wrong with free food, hmm?" Ashley remarked.

"No, you cannot."

"So, how's being a costume designer?"

"Oh my god, it's the best. I've been texting Alice a lot recently, sending her costume ideas and she's loving it. Hey, have you thought about that piano player thing?"

"I have," Ashley said with some hesitation. "And I decided to give it a try. I just need some time to sharpen my skills. They are beyond rusty."

"Nice!" Heather exclaimed. There was a grin on her face that very quickly disappeared when from the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar person walk not too far away.

"I don't god damn believe it," she muttered. "It's her."

"Who?"

"_Her_."

After some thought, Ashley figured out who Heather was referring to.

"What?" she gasped. "How is that possible? How the hell is she here?"

"I don't know, but I do know that she has a deathwish."

Ashley then noticed that Heather's hands began to twitch.

"I...I gotta go to the garage. Right now!" Heather said, paranoia gripping her totally.

Before Ashley could even say a word, Heather sprinted off toward the garage.

"Goddamn it. This day was just so good."

With an exasperated sigh, she rushed off to catch up.

* * *

The day has progressed, where it was now the afternoon. By now, Viola has already returned to her hotel and Catalina's campus was now vacant of students, the caterers gone. For the Mojave Rose tankery team, their day was not yet done as they had their regular meeting to attend to. Valarie was among the first people to arrive, though to her surprise, she found the one of the side doors open. Investigating, she entered the garage to find it already occupied. She found Ashley leaning against the wall. She looked exhausted.

"...You're already here?" Valarie questioned. "Wow, that's some initiative."

"Yeah...initiative. I'm tired...real tired. Can I have a few minutes to rest here?"

"Sure. Where's Heather?""

"Where else?"

"Figured."

Valarie walked to the T-44, where she found Heather on top of the engine deck. She wasn't wearing her tankery uniform, but her casual clothes. They were absolutely covered with grease and other grime, not to mention sweat as she has been working diligently for however long she was in her.

"Okay, what's up Heather," Valarie spoke to her. "I know you really like the T-44, but you never came to the garage before any of us to work on it."

"I'm looking for sabotage."

"...What?"

"I saw her, Valarie. I saw that girl. That bitch from Virginia."

Valarie noticed that more members of the team were arriving. She stepped closer to Heather and brought her voice down.

"She's here? Are you sure?:

"I saw what I saw. She was walking around campus. When I did see her, I went straight here. I didn't just check our tank...I checked all the others on the team."

"Are you serious?"

Heather nodded slowly, her weariness building up. "I got paranoid. So paranoid. I didn't find anything amiss...Ashley helped too but it's just two of us. We can't give each vehicle the thorough inspection they deserve."

"I'll make sure the team pays extra attention to maintenance today, don't you worry."

"Are you gonna tell them what's up?"

"No. Not gonna worry them."

Heather hopped off the tank. "No? Why not? This concerns everyone."

"I don't want this team to get drawn into this drama that I didn't want in the first place. If any more problems come up, we can deal with it, okay?"

Heather inhaled deeply. "Alright. Fine. Keep it lowkey...hmm...that's actually better that way."

Valarie nodded. "It is, isn't it? Now, you and Ashley done a lot. You two are excused if you wanna leave."

"Oh, I'll just take a nap in the tank."

Heather climbed back on top the tank and motioned to Ashley to come over. Together, the pair got in the tank and napped. Outside, Valarie sighed and leaned against the T-44. Her hands were on her knees as she closed her eyes. Today was a good day, and now it had to end like this. It left a sour taste in her mouth that just could not go away.

"Another god damn thing to worry about."


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team visits the German Tank Museum in Munster.  
Not Münster  
Totally different place.

_Saturday, August 24th 2013_

Madison was two-for-two for the amount of times she has slept so wonderfully so far this year. The first time was the night after she met Valarie's parents. Most importantly for her was her meeting her biological father. That day went better than Madison could ever hoped for, and when they accepted her into the family, she felt a tidal wave of relief and happiness. On that particular night, where she shared a bed with her sister, she had a blissful night of slumber. The second time was last night. With Viola now committing to transfer to Catalina, the knowledge that such a person with an impressive familial background would soon become a student, it pleased not only Madison but for the school's administration as well. They had become that more prestigious.

It was a little past seven in the morning and Madison was awake. Nothing but positive vibes filled her body. She reached for her phone by her bed and began browsing. Not only was she catching up on messages from friends, but to also seek inspiration. She wanted to do something special for the Mojave Rose tankery team, those Dust Devils, as they have played a pivotal role in getting Viola to come to this school. Even if most of the team did not interact with or even know about Viola, their mere existence on this ship tipped the odds in Madison's favor. In fact, she was convinced that had the ship was not hosting the Mojave Rose tankery team, then Viola might not have chosen to transfer to Catalina. As such the team was, unknowingly or not, instrumental for the success of yesterday's events. She decided a reward was in store for them. Madison pondered her options.

A party? That was the first thing to come to mind but was she was very hesitant. A party seemed too generic of an award, even if she spent thousands of dollars to make the whole affair luxurious.

New equipment for their tanks? That was an idea that made her excited for a moment, when she then remembered that Valarie had shared with her that the team has recently purchased some new material for their machines. What more, Madison wanted their reward to be a surprise and since she knew next to nothing about tank equipment, this idea was discarded.

A new tank? Madison did know full well that a new tank for the team will certainly be received positively by Valarie and the rest of the team. But, again, she hesitated. The team was bound to receive another tank sooner or later, so to Madison, hastening an inevitability wasn't much of an reward.

Give each member of the team a thousand dollars to spend how they wish? Now that there was an idea. Madison heavily leaned toward idea when there was a knock her dorm's door. She rose form her bed to answer it to find it was Alice. the two girls didn't exchange words at first. They immediately clasped hands, hugged, and let out celebratory laughter.

"We god damn pulled it off!" Alice exclaimed

"Damn right we did. Viola is going to be a student of _here_ and not at Golden Gate. Suck it, Juliana! That's another defeat for you!"

"Oh, was she there? Did she do anything?"

"Yep. And she tried but was too freaking late to do a damn thing. Viola had already made up her mind the time she arrived."

"Oh my god. What was the look on her face?"

"_Priceless_."

"Oh man I wish I was there to see it myself. But, I had to oversee catering."

"Ah, if only I took a picture," Madison said with a pleasant sigh. "You know, Valarie played a significant role here."

"Hmm? How so?"

"It was a stroke of luck. Some random girls walked up to her during our tour and asked her these questions about tankery. Even Juliana asked one. All of that made Viola very curious about her. Those questions might have sealed the deal."

They shared another laugh.

"So, what happens now?" Alice questioned.

"Administration will be handling Viola's transfer. Good thing the semester is relatively new so she won't have much to catch up on. Oh, and I'm also to give the tankery team a reward."

"A reward?"

"Yeah! Even if most of the team did not physically interact with Viola, them just being here did the trick."

"I see. What do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking something simple. A thousand dollars for each member of the team. There's sixty-one people on the team, so that'd be sixty-one thousand dollars total to dish out. Not too much. Hmm...maybe I'll give Valarie, Cassidy and Louise more 'cause they had a more direct role..."

Alice placed both of her hands on Madison's cheeks. "Do you hear yourself sometimes?"

"Huh?"

"You're genuinely considering giving the team sixty-one thousand dollars?"

"...Yes?" Madison said slowly. "Like I said, it's not a whole lot of money. My mom makes way more in interest thanks to her investments."

"Madi..." Alice said with a hint of disappointment. "What did I tell you about acting like the stereotypical rich girl?"

"To...not do it?"

"Yes. And what are you doing now?"

Madison let out a huge sigh. "I'm acting like a stereotypical rich girl who is throwing money around without even thinking. Ugh. My mind just gravitates to money as an answer to things...though money is very much the answer to a lot of things. I still want to give the team some sort reward."

"How about instead of giving the team all that cash, which is essentially bribing them to love you, you get them something that'll help them out in the tournament."

"I want something special though, not something expected like supplies or even a new tank. You know what I mean?"

Alice put on a thoughtful expression for several moments. "Hmm, so maybe instead of something," she wondered, then snapped her fingers. "You get them someone."

Madison looked perplexed. "Someone?"

"Hear me out. Find and invite someone who was part of the last American team who one the internationals. They'll share experiences, advice, and who knows what else. It'd be really cool!"

"Hold on now, the last time the US won the internationals was way back in 1975."

"So? Assuming that we can find someone who was 17 back then they'd be, ah, 55 now. Plus, chances are that a good chunk of the old American team are still involved in tankery in some manner. A wealth of experience to be passed down to the current generation of athletes. You and I both know that such people are keeping tabs on the tournament. I'm sure at least one person from the old team would love to visit. What do you say?"

"I love it," Madison said without delay. "That would be the best thing for them. We'll start looking for a member today. After breakfast."

"Same. I'm starved. You know, fried chicken isn't really a breakfast food but-"

Her words were interrupted when the sound of a distant thud of a cannon was heard. Both girls looked out toward the open window. Another shot rang out, this with more power behind it.

"They don't start practice this early." Alice noted.

"Today's an exception," Madison explained. "They have places to be this weekend."

"Gotcha. What kind of places?"

"Well, later today they're going to a tank museum. Tomorrow, they're heading off to an army base."

Alice stared at her.

"...What?"

* * *

Smoke and vaporized gunpowder dominated the air in Inspiration Park. The once cool morning was warmed by the firing of the team's guns. It was early in the morning but not one member of the team felt tired at the slightest. As nothing woke anyone better than the explosion of a cannon shot. For one tank specifically, their actions were more enthusiastic than usual. The moment a round left the barrel, another was already in the breech. The Sherman Jumbo crew were happy. Very happy. Their new 76mm gun has arrived the previous day and has been mounted on their tank.

"Sand mound, 200 meters," Haley ordered, her eyes pressed against the vision port. "Let's hear that sound one more time!"

Another 76mm round was sent down range, scoring a hit on the sand mound that was devastated beyond belief.

"Target destroyed, nicely done!"

The new gun, of course, made the turret of the Jumbo have noticeably less space but uncomfortable. The 76mm shells were also heavier, though Harper was already well on her way to getting used to the increased weight. She will not allow the tank's reload rate to slow down. Oh no. She'll be the best loader she can be.

As the Jumbo crew broke in their new gun, not too far from their position was the ACIV. Robin and her crew were eager to try their new ADPS rounds. Ahead of their tank was a small field where a wooden target laid 500 meters away. Autumn, the ACIV's loader, grabbed a sabot round from the rack and took a moment to gaze at the round.

"God, this thing looks_ mean_," Autumn remarked with a smile. "Dibs on the discarded sabot thing."

"Hey!" interjected Alexa, the gunner. "I'm the one shooting, I want the sabot!"

Robin addressed them both. "Girls, we're gonna fire so much APDS today that we'll be swimming in discarded sabot. Now, let's pop off our first round of the day."

The 17-pounder was trained on the wooden target and the range was made out. The crew eagerly awaited the words that would christen the Sentinel's new use of armor-piecing discarding sabot.

"Fire."

The words left her lips and in the very next moment, the gun was fired. The round escaped from the barrel and its sabot covering was shed off, leaving only the tungsten dart soaring toward the target. It traveled at three times the speed of sound where it reached the target in a fraction of a second. The round punctured through the wood and landed a great distance away in the woods behind the field with a thud. Autumn scrambled out of the tank and went straight for the sabot, now lying on the ground. She picked up a piece but let out a yelp and immediately dropped it. It was hot from being fired.

"Maybe you should wait for a few minutes?" Robin said, who joined her outside.

"Yeah...maybe," Autumn said as she waved her hands in the air. "I need ice. Like right now."

As minor burns are treated, the team conducted their early morning practice with some quickness as they had some traveling to do for the weekend. Over at the T-44, Valarie was paying a great deal of attention to her tablet, watching the blue dots that represented the team go about their routines. The smashed tablets from their first match with Italy has already been long repaired, and now, every tablet as been equipped with a protective case. They won't be smashed anytime soon. She then looked at the time. It was about to be ten o'clock. They've been practicing for approximately three hours. A short practice by any definition, but they have a schedule to abide by. Over the radio, the team were told to return to the garage. After, they went to the apartment complex and got ready. They will be away for the remainder of the day and tomorrow so they packed accordingly. Their destination today was already known and they were eager. But no one could say they were more excited than Valarie. The German Tank Museum in Munster. Not Münster. Two very different places. It's Germany's largest collection of armored fighting vehicles, boasting 150 vehicles from 1917 onward. As the team packed, a charter bus pulled up in front of the apartment complex. Once ready, they piled into the bus and they were on their way. An interesting aspect concerning school ships was how vehicles on the ship disembarked. There was a large and wide ramp that was deployed from one of the lower levels of the ship. It would connect to a road on the dock below. The bus that carried the team moved about the town where it went down a tunnel that took them below the carrier. Not even yet physically on German soil and the team were already fascinated on their trip by the sub-levels of Catalina's carrier. In a short amount of time, they were down the ramp and now on the dock. From there, the bus got on the A7 motorway that would take them to Munster. The place was only about 80 kilometers away so at most they'd take an hour to arrive. The temperature was 80 degrees Fahrenheit which was rather hot for Germany, but no issue at all for the California-born team. During their drive, they passed by all sorts German cities and towns, with some members of the team trying their best to pronounce them. Of course, Natalie was the only one who could say a town's name perfectly, acting all smug. In addition to the signs of civilization, was all the sections of untamed forests they passed, and in some cases drove through. As noon approached, the bus drove off the motorway and into the town of Munster. On their approach to the museum the team was already greeted with a tank. Situated outside was a prototype of a Leopard 1. Valarie's eyes were immediately trained on this tank and the moment the bus came to a stop in front of the tank museum, rushed out and went straight toward the Leopard. Her crew followed in tow while the rest of the team were more interested in seeing the interior of the museum. Valarie stood in front of the machine with gleaming eyes. The Leopard was equipped with a 105mm Royal Ordnance L7A3 cannon, it painted in the ever familiar panzer grey, with on the turret the emblem Bundeswehr, Germany's Federal Defense Force. What was unique about this tank was that stairs were next to it, which meant that people could actually climb into the machine. Not delaying another moment, Valarie scrambled to the top of the turret, opened the commander's cupola, and got inside. She found herself in the familiar setting of the commander's position. Though the Leopard 1 was no longer in service and decades old, especially with this particular tank being one of the prototypes, compared to the interior of her T-44, it was luxurious. Though, what was not impressive was the armor. German tank philosophy at the time concluded that no matter what armor configuration they cooked up, rounds like HEAT will still penetrate, and if not, an anti-tank round would be developed that does. Thusly, the armor was only strong enough to withstand rounds from 20mm autocannon. What was to be the Leopard's protection was its mobility, capable of going 65 kilometers an hour. Valarie touched at every component that she could reach from the commander's seat. All the while, she had the biggest smile on her face. She popped her head out of the hatch and looked toward her crew, who were checking out the exterior of the Leopard.

"This is beyond cool," Valarie remarked. "And this is just one tank. They got so many more inside."

"God, imagine if we had a tank like this on the team? We'd be unstoppable." Ashley said with confidence.

"Heh, if only. I'm actually glad that the rules of tankery only allows up to WW2-era vehicles. If more modern tanks were allowed everyone would just be shooting HEAT or APFSDS. Armor would be pointless, so the art of angling would be made obsolete. A team composed of King Tigers, Panthers, Ferdinands, Jagdtigers, and, hell, even an E-100 would not stand a chance against a team that had just three Leopard 1s. All that heavy armor, rendered useless. Buuuut," Valarie said, her tone shifting. "Being in a main battle tank like a Leopard 2 or T-80 and utterly destroying an enemy team would be, without a doubt, the funnest thing anyone could ever do. They wouldn't stand a damn chance."

Ashley eagerly nodded. "I'd love to load a HEAT shell!"

"I'd love to shoot a modern smoothbore gun!" Emma added.

"Feathering the throttle of an engine with over one thousand horsepower will feel _good_." Heather remarked.

The four girls dreamed of operating a more modern tank and all the fun they could have and damage they could unleash. Though, the thought that there was more tanks to see just meters away snapped them out of their daydreaming. Valarie climbed out of the Leopard and together they entered the German Panzer Museum. Not even ten steps inside and already were they presented with armored vehicles. Despite being part of a sports team that involves itself heavily with tanks and other armored fighting vehicles, it did not diminish the feeling of awe when the girls and the rest of the team explored the museum. With over 150 vehicles in its collection, there was a whole lot to see. Valarie walked around like she was in a candy shop. Each tank she saw increased her excitement by the minute. A Panzer III Ausf. L painted in the iconic dunkelgelb paint scheme. A Panzer I Ausf. A that was on a turn table. Valarie used a nearby control that made the little tank rotate in place, giving them all a good look at it. She found it all amusing. Moving along, the T-44 crew came across a Hummel self-propelled gun. They stood before the vehicle, which had a camouflage net covering its open top.

"More artillery on the team would be nice." Heather commented.

"Wow," Ashley remarked. "That's shocking come from you. You were the one who went insane in our very first match with those Bishops."

"Insane, huh?"

Ashley turned a dark shade of red and started to stutter. "A-ah, p-poor choice of words. Sorry."

Heather gave her a look and resumed looking at the Hummel. "Though I absolutely loath the feeling of an artillery shot coming down on us, it's different when the artillery is on your side. I had my reservations with the SU-14 crew at, fearing that one of these days one of their shots would get too close to us. That hasn't happened and I doubt it will now considering they're experienced. Still...if they ever even come close to hitting our tank they're fucked."

They all shared smiles.

"Valarie," Emma then said. "Could vehicles like the Hummel ever be approved for tankery matches?"

"With some modifications, sure," Valarie answered. "Though, machines like the Hummel would need more work than, say, a Hellcat. You'd have to mount a metal plate over the open space. That would reduce the effectiveness of the crew now as things like the Hummel were designed to be open-topped. Just how severe the reduction is varies from machine to machine. You'd then also either have a section of the metal plate act as the hatch, or weld on a cupola from another tank."

"Oh. That seems like a lotta work to make open-topped vehicles work in tankery."

"It is, but you know what? Teams still do it to have vehicles like the Hummel. I know of this one team in Utah that has three Hummels as part of their roster. They have metal plates covering their top and have the copula of Panzer III welded on. They got a rate of fire of one round a minute and it's not a historical modification, obviously, but the ATA, and other tankery governing bodies I'm sure, can make exceptions. They are teams all over with machines like Nashorns, Grilles, and I think one team has a Sturer Emil among their ranks."

"Do you think any team has _that_ in their ranks?" Ashley said, pointing toward a machine not too far from the Hummel. Based on the chassis of a Tiger 1, it was a vehicle whose purpose was to bring down buildings and annihilate concrete fortifications as if they were made of paper mache. In front of this machine was the round it shot. Valarie knelt down next to it and saw that the ammunition was more than half her height had the round be standing up straight. It wasn't a tank for it lacked a turret, nor was it a self-propelled gun. It was a self-propelled mortar. The Sturmtiger. It sported a 380mm rocket-propelled mortar with a circle of holes that outlined the barrel so that all the gases from the immense round would be vented out of the machine.

"I'd be surprised if there _wasn't _a team out there that didn't have a Sturmtiger. They are people who love firepower over everything else so something like this would be right up their alley. It has a short range, though, so just keep your distance to take it out with ease."

The girls gawked at the Sturmtiger, where even just being on display still emanated an aura of obscene power. Though they didn't dwell on the machine for long. Valarie, with a sense of wonder in her eyes, marched on, with the rest of her friends following right behind.

* * *

The museum was not just dedicated to armor fighting vehicles, but also has collections concerning the other elements of war, or the _Elemente des Krieges_ as the museum puts it. Part of these elements are four areas or paths that focus on an element of war. Iron, textile, gold, and wood. Ray and his crew, after enjoying some of the tanks, went down the iron path. This portion of the museum was dedicated to small arms, not only weapons from the world wars, but guns spanning back to the 17th century. They found the walls lined with glass cabinets, stored within were enough guns to equip the weirdest army ever considering the guns came from different ages and nations. Muskets with bayonets and ram rods were on display, looking like they were ready for service. The boys moved along and saw more modern weaponry. Well, relativity modern. Mauser C96s, Gewher 98s MG 08s. They also had a number of Lee-Enfields, the ever-famous 1911, and of course, the Model 1987 Trench Gun. Grenades from the WW1-era was also within the display along with flamethrowers. Then, they was the weapons of the second world war. Though Ray was more versed in ancient history rather than the history of World War II, the weapons the museum had were so incredibly iconic that even he could recognize them from appearance alone. A Thompson submachine gun, a MP-40, a PPsH with a drum magazine, an MG-42, among many others.

"What are the odds any of these guns still work?" Cesar questioned.

Ryan gave him a shrug. "Who knows. Doubt those muskets still work. Maybe the more modern stuff does."

Ray stepped closed to the glass to look upon a StG-44. Placed directly next to the gun was a AK-47. An intentional placement to compare the two assault rifles, as the StG would later inspire the legendary Soviet gun.

"I wouldn't mind shooting an '47," Ray then said. "A fitting weapon, considering the tank we operate. Now, let's go into the textile area. There is a special exhibit there I want to see."

The boys left for gun hall for the textile area. Here, it was a place where all sorts of uniforms were encased in glass displays. One of these cases showcased uniforms of German infantry over different eras. One showed the uniform of German infantry during the 19th century. The next was the clothing of a German soldier of the Empire during the First World War. And the third was the uniform of a Wehrmact. They paused briefly to study them and get their eyefuls. Thereafter, Ray led them to the exhibit he has been curious to see ever since he did some research on the museum prior to the team's visit. In its own glass display box was an assortment of items. In the center was a tank uniform jacket with red patches on the colors and shoulders. Above the jacket was an officer's cap. The clothing looked aged and worn. Also in this display were some images. One of which a drawing of the man who once wore the uniform, and another a photograph. A third image showcased an eagle resting upon a swastika. Yet the item in there that drew the most attention was a special kind of mask. A death mask.

The special exhibit Ray wanted to see was about Erwin Rommel.

"Oh, that's the guy." Ryan then said.

"Hmm?" Ray hummed.

"That uh, that general. He had this nickname that I just for the life of my can't remember. Something...something...fox."

"The Desert Fox?"

"That's it! What a guy, huh?"

"He sure was some guy."

"So, are you gonna go on some huge lecture on his life and combat career, ray?" Jeremey said in a near tease.

"Well," Ray began. "While I do know a lot more about people like Ceaser and Pompey, I did read a little of Rommel to see what kind of person he was. To put it simply...he was complicated."

"Considering the country he served, it's not really surprising."

"No it is not. Still, he's very interesting."

Cesar checked his phone for the time. "It's about to be noon. I want some lunch. There a cafeteria in this place or something?"

"Oh yes there is!" Ray said with glee.

He led his friends to the cafeteria, as he, of course, already knew about well in advance. Ryan lingered for a bit to look at the display for a few more moments. His eyes latched upon a sign that had some English words. Reading them, he got disappointed.

"Aw man," he let out. "The uniform's a fake."

* * *

Paige and her crew enjoyed a certain level of uniqueness in the team on the account of them operating a unique tank; A Panther II. It possessed equipment that none of the other tanks of the team could ever mount themselves being night vision, albeit poor night vision. They dreamed of the situation where they can use their 'vampire vision', as they like to call it, to its greatest potential. Them hidden in an ideal ambush position, the sun long set and the darkness of the night providing its shadowy cloak. Shooting the enemy when they can't see you with their deadly 88mm. What was also unique about their tank was how it was manufactured very recently compared to the rest of the vehicles on the team. Unlike say the Sherman Jumbo or IS-3, the Panther II wasn't constructed in a factory during World War II. The Panther II the way the team has it, with the 88mm and Schmalturm turret, was never constructed by Germany. It was, instead, built by Patton Heavy Duty Engineering so that the tank could be used as a prize for the tankery convention earlier in the year. The tank wasn't even a year old. As new as a machine can be for a tankery team. Now, was such a tank stretching history and is a bit iffy for it to be in matches.

Yes.

But were Paige, her crew, and the rest of the Mojave Rose team ever going to stop using the tank?

Nope.

In their minds, as long as it was certified for use by the ATA and the organization overseeing the international competition, it was perfectly okay to keep operating it.

Paige and her crew's experience in the Panther II has garnered an interest among them for unique machines. So, it is no wonder that when they wandered into the museum hall that housed Cold War-era vehicles, they were in their own slice of heaven. There was Leopard 1 for them to enjoy, with this one having sections of its armor sliced off so that its internal compartments can be examined closely. A Raketenjagdpanzer, a tank destroyer that instead of a main cannon, used anti-tank guided missiles to destroy its targets. A Kanonenjagdpanzer, a tank destroyer with a 90mm gun that was from the M47 Patton. It very much resembled a Jagdpanzer IV. Then, there was something truly special. A MBT-70.

A prototype tank that resulted from an American and West German project to jointly develop a new main battle tank that both countries could use in their respective militaries. The tank featured a whole host of new technologies at the time that included; a hydropneumatic suspension that allowed the tank to raise or lower its suspension, an autoloading XM150 152mm gun/launcher that not only fires conventional HEAT and APFSDS rounds but can also fire a guided Shillelagh missile. In addition to that, there was also a remote controlled 20mm autocannon for use against light targets and aircraft. The driver, instead of the usual position in the hull, was now in the turret in their own special space that no matter where the turret rotated, they would always be facing forward.

The MBT-70 project was beset by all sorts of problems with the get-go as the design teams from both countries could never really come to a consensus on engineering practices. What ended the project was its increasing complexity of adding, of at the time, untested technologies and ballooning budget, leading it its cancellation. For the United States, the material and lessons learned from the MBT-70 project would eventually led to the design and adoption of the M1 Abrams.

Though the MBT-70 was a failure, Paige and her crew had a fascination with the tank. Mainly, it was due to the fact that the machine, among other things, had a laser rangefinder.

"God, if only laser rangefinders were allowed," Paige remarked. "Combined with our other tech, we'd be deadly like never before."

"This tank is ugly as hell," Esther, the Panther II's driver suddenly said after looking at the MBT-70 for a solid minute. "The real reason why this project failed was because the engineers saw the prototype and threw up."

"Sure, that can be a reason," Paige said with a laugh. "Though, the combination gun/missle launcher pretty cool, huh?"

"Oh yeah, that part is cool."

Eli, the gunner and sole male member of the Panther II found the MBT-70 cool enough though he let his eyes wander around the hall to see if he could find anything else interesting. In no time, he did find something to gaze out. Or rather, someone. Standing nonchalantly behind Melody, the loader, Eli checked her out. Melody had sun-kissed auburn hair, with one side of it tucked behind her ear, and the other hanging above her right eye. From the moment he first saw her when the crew first joined the team, he was smitten. Though, he also remembered what Ray had told him ages ago.

_"Tankery is traditionally a girl's sport and some people are deadset on keeping it that way. You won't face any opposition on this team, thank God, but it's inevitable that you'll face some sort of harsh treatment by those who are obsessed with tradition. That's why I'm asking you to be careful. Very careful. I wish this wasn't the case and that you and I can be worry-free but that's the reality of the situation."_

If Eli wanted a relationship with Melody, he will have to tread carefully and let her make the first move. She had given Eli signals...or at least he thinks they are signals. It could also be her being friendly. He's the gunner and she's the loader. In teams all over the world, the gunner and loader tend to be friendly toward each other as they go hand-in-hand. In a vast majority of cases, these friendships only remain friends. Eli hoped he can progress past this stage, but Ray's advice still rang in his head. The best thing to do was wait and let Melody make the advances. If she ever makes them at all.

Eli sighed quietly to himself. What a situation he was in. Yes, he will have to tread carefully but this waiting game won't be allowed to carry on much longer. He'll brainstorm some plan of action and execute it when the time is right.

"C'mon guys, let's head outside. I think they are more exhibits there." Paige then said.

The Panther II crew continued their exploration of the museum. Though, Eli's mind was very much elsewhere.

* * *

Some hours have gone by and the team were still eagerly enjoying what the panzer museum had to offer. Still, exhaustion was beginning to take root among them. For Valarie, though, she looked like she had just got here. She was hellbent on seeing every single tank this museum had in its collection and was very insistent that her crew be with her the entire time so that she could share all the facts she had memorized about them. Emma, Heather, and Ashley could just barely manage to keep up with her and they were getting tired. It didn't help that at times Valarie ran from tank to tank to get to them as soon as possible. They were at a display of a 128mm anti-tank gun, with Valarie thoroughly examining the mechanisms that made it work. Nearby, her crew were learning against a wall to rest.

"I'm all about exercise," Ashley said with a breath. "But I hate cardio."

"I have never ran this much before in my life." Heather added.

"Alright, clearly Valarie has incredibly more passion for all of this than we do. This place was on her bucket list for years, and now that she's here, she is going to savor every single moment." Emma told them.

"I getcha. Still, can we not run everywhere?" Ashley asked.

Before she could receive an answer, Valarie returned to her friends with a satisfied grin on her face. She checked the time and let out a gasp.

"Oh wow, it's five already? The museum is gonna close soon."

"Sooo, are we gonna leave for our hotel?" Ashley inquired. "We got that army base to visit tomorrow and I got a feeling we're gonna need all our energy."

"We've got one more tank to see and it's a special one," Valarie told them. "Once we see it, we're done for today."

Valarie then ran off toward the tank in question.

"Oh, Christ." Ashley complained.

The rest of the T-44 crew ran to catch up to her. Thankfully, they didn't have to run for long as they found Valarie standing before a tank. It was boxy in appearance, the tank within a display to make it look like it was crossing a field of barbed wire. The T-44 crew could clearly see Valarie was entranced by the machine, her hands up to her mouth. In white markings was the tank's name, _Wotan_.

It was a reconstructed replica of Germany's A7V. It was not just some shell for exterior viewing, its fighting compartment was built exactly how genuine A7Vs were back in the war. The accuracy of the reconstruction was down to the last bolt. This was Valarie's favorite tank above all. She just loved how it looked.

"Sturmpanzerwagen," Valarie said, her German pronunciation spot on. "This will probably be the best chance I'll ever get to seeing one...even if it is just a replica. Though, if I ever get near to Australia, I'd go through hell to see _Mephisto_."

Valarie approached the A7V getting closer, almost letting out a squeal. She moved to an area that allowed her to see inside the tank and it was here that she fangirled _hard_. Her friends found it all hilarious. She then looked toward her friends.

"I'm going in. Keep a lookout."

"What?" Emma said with surprise. "You're not supposed to do that."

"When will I ever got a chance like this again, Emma?" Valarie responded. "I need to do this. To satisfy an old dream of mine."

After a moment of anxious thought, Emma gave her a hesitant nod. Valarie, pleased, crawled under a rope and proceeded to explore the fighting compartment of the A7V. All the while, her crew maintained lookouts. Whenever an museum employee would appear, they'd get nervous and act all innocent till they walked by. Valarie was out of view, but they could hear her make noises. Not just from moving about the A7V, but also her uncontrollably letting out gasps of awe as she touched damn near everything she could.

"She's...she's having a good time isn't she?" Ashley remarked.

"A great time," Heather added. "She's fulfilling a dream."

"God, I love the sounds of her being happy." Emma commented.

Valarie spent several long minutes getting familiar with the A7V. Once she was thoroughly satisfied, she got out of the tank and rejoined her crew.

"That was...pure bliss." Valarie told them.

"That good huh?" Emma asked.

Valarie gave her a slow nod. "Alright...now we're done here. Send a message in the group chat that we're meeting back to the bus."

The T-44 crew made their way back to the entrance of the museum. During their walk back, Ashley couldn't help but make a joke.

"Val, you had a such a good time in that tank, I'm surprised you didn't walk out smoking a cigarette."

Emma and Heather laughed, but Valarie didn't for she didn't get it.

And that only made it funnier.


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team makes their way deeper into Germany to visit Grafenwöhr, an army base.
> 
> What fun is in store for them?

_Sunday August 25th 2013_

_Grafenwöhr, Germany_

The previous day at the German Panzer Museum can be described as simply excellent. Every member of the team had seen something at the place that they enjoyed. For Valarie, to say it was a dream come true would be an understatement. Days where every moment was of pure delight were few and far between and yesterday fit that bill beautifully. Without a shadow of a doubt, Valarie will cherish the memories made for years to come.

It was the early morning and the weather was cloudy. So early that the team was still asleep in the humble hotel they were staying in. Like in all other times the team have traveled, each crew were packed into their own room. Valarie's crew were asleep, with her awake. She was already in her uniform, freshly clean and ready for the day ahead. Valarie was gazing out the second floor window to a park across the street. At this early hour it was mostly vacant. The trees danced faintly as gusts of winds blew through their branches. In a calm and cool morning, she took this moment to think. There was a lot that weighed heavily on her mind. The most pressing matter was the visitation of the army base later today. Though she would have preferred to spend a day with a tank unit, as U.S tank units were withdrawn earlier in the year from Europe, a field artillery unit will have to suffice. The day will still be nonetheless interesting and who knows what surprises could spring up. Her mind then dwelled on the upcoming match against the New Zealand team. The necessary preparations have been made. The strategy has already been crafted and is ready for execution, the new material the team ordered has already arrived and been installed where applicable, and the new crew for the Type 97 have been trained enough with their tank to work their roles decently enough. It was the uncertainty that troubled her. Every match cultivated this feeling within. A perpetual fog of war where all manner of monsters can lurk within, biding their time to unleash a strike. Perhaps no monster can claim to be more fearsome than Molly Pitcher's E-100, the Standardpanzer that made its presence known far and wide at its debut at the American nationals. It only has been roughly two months since the national finals, though with how much has happened since now and then, it felt like it happened a decade ago. Like it was part of a different story. Valarie could vividly remember the emotion she has felt when the E-100 first revealed itself from that barn. It was the closest she has ever felt fear in a tankery match. Had the Super Pershing not taken the monster down in the way that it did, the nationals could very well have turned out differently.

Valarie took a deep breath and grinned to herself, pleased to see what the intense efforts of the team has brought them. She turned around and was mildly surprised to see Emma was awake and was looking at her silently with a soft smile on her face. Valarie walked over and got into bed next to her. They clasped hands.

"You got an eyeful?" Valarie softly said in a tease.

Emma gave her the quietest of chuckles. "Oh, yes ma'am."

"Oh please," Valarie said, her cheeks turning red. "I'm not used to that kind of formality."

"Well, captain, I'm more than happy to help you get used to all kinds of formal talk. You are in uniform after all."

Valarie's blush deepened. "You love to make me turn red, don't you?"

"Yes, yes I do. And I know just the trick to make your cheeks that much redder."

Emma grabbed Valarie by the collar of her uniform to pull her in to kiss. Valarie instantly melted and returned the kiss in kind. After several long blissful moments, they pulled apart. Their eyes locked and both cheeks showing a vibrant shade of red.

"That...that does the trick." Valarie remarked.

"I've got more _tricks_," Emma said with a wink. "One day, I'll show you what they are. They are a lot more fun."

Valarie raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Okay. I'm curious."

"Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Not really, no," Valarie admitted. "It's a bit broad."

"...Broad?"

"Yeah, I mean, so many things can be fun, you know?"

"Sure, though what I really meant-"

Valarie rose a finger. "Don't tell me. I want to be surprised with what you have in store for me."

"Surprised? What I have in mind isn't really what you surprise people with. It involves buildup that is...fairly obvious."

"Oh? It sounds pretty unique then. Try to pull it off, please?"

"Ah...uh...alright," Emma said after some hesitation. "I'll hammer out some plan."

Valarie grinned. "Cool! Man, I _literally_ have no idea what you have in mind so I can't wait to see it. Now, you outta put on your uniform. I gotta wash my face."

Valarie rose from the bed and went to the bathroom. Emma lingered at the bed, sighed, and finally got up. She went toward her bags to fetch her uniform when she glanced down toward the floor at the foot of the bed to find Ashley, awake, and looking right at her with a smile.

"You call it 'tricks'?" Ashley asked.

Emma looked toward the bathroom door for a moment then knelt down next to Ashley. "We're thinking of the same 'it', aren't we?"

"Duh. The same 'it' that created you and me. Val has no idea what she has just asked you to do."

"Jeez, I know right?"

"But you do want it, yeah?"

"Obviously. But with how Valarie is in these regards...I don't have a freaking clue how to even start."

"Careful and delicate planning will be key here," Ashley told her. "Do not rush into this."

"Hmm," Emma hummed. "You're talking like you-"

"Done this before? Guilty."

"Well, I'm not surprised. When and who?"

Ashley shook her head. "I'm not sharing anything. Sorry."

"Fine...fine," Emma said. She then turned to look at Heather who was still asleep. "I never seen such a deep sleeper. We're like talking right next to her."

"It's because of her medication."

"Medication?"

"Yeah, she has 'em. You know a while back when she told us she has anger issues? Well, she has medication for that. Whenever she gets real agitated, she takes some pills that calms her down. A side effect though is that they make her super drowsy. When she took them last night, she was knocked out not even a minute later."

"Oh, okay," Emma remarked. "Is she made about something then?"

Ashley hesitated and her hands fidgeted. "Ah," she cleared her throat. "Well, you know how are people with anger problems. Something so trivial that makes them explode."

"Ah, gotcha."

Emma went and put on her uniform. When Valarie finished washing her face, the two departed the room to go get breakfast, leaving Ashley and Heather in the room. Ashley stood up from the floor and stretched. She reached for her bag to dig out her uniform.

"It's not trivial."

Heather's voice spooked Ashley, who slowly turned to face her.

"I thought you were asleep."

"Sometimes when I wake up, I don't always open my eyes. Just a quirk I have."

"That's one hell of a quirk."

"Why didn't you tell Emma about who I saw on Friday? The girl who has spiked my anxiety and anger?"

Ashley looked down toward the floor. "Why should Emma have to know? Didn't Valarie say its better to keep it all low-key?"

"I agree to, to a point, wit what Valarie said to keep all the drama from the team. But Emma needs to know. They _sabotaged_ the tank she shoots." Heather told her. She then brought a hand to her head as she felt a brief yet intense pain. Her face showed it.

"Are you okay?" Ashley asked with concern.

"No...I'm not," Heather said under her breath. "Since I saw that girl, I've been having flare ups...the voice...it's speaking to me again."

"What is the voice saying to you?"

"Things I don't want to repeat. God, why did that bitch have to show up? I was doing _so _good! I haven't heard the fucking voice since our match in Spain but since I saw her...it's been talking."

"What about yesterday? At the museum?"

"That was a day of respite. I was so distracted by the tanks that the voice couldn't dare utter a word."

"Well...then the army base visit will be good too. Lots of distractions."

"Oh yes, loads," Heather replied. "Now, ah, let's get ready."

* * *

Located in the south-west from the town, lied a base.

It took up 223 square kilometers of land.

44 digitally connected computerized ranges.

43 artillery firing points

24 mortar firing points.

2 airfields.

Home to around 6,000 people.

Grafenwöhr Army Base is the home of the 7th Army Training Command, a U.S Army training training organization that not only serves to train elements of the U.S Army, but also the allies of the United States, in particular, fellow NATO members. The Mojave Rose team earlier has piled into a bus and were were taken to this facility. They were all in their uniforms. It wasn't said in the invitation they were required to wear their uniforms for their visit today, yet, Valarie thought it was only appropriate to show up to an army base in proper attire. The bus stopped before an entrance. Valarie, who was in the front, looked out the window to see that no one was outside.

"Huh," she uttered. "I guess we're early."

"I expected more honestly," Ray added who was sat behind her. "Not a full on parade or anything, but..."

"Hold on, someone's coming."

A person emerged from a building, sporting the familiar ACU, or Army Combat Uniform. They were alone and were walking right toward the bus. They the stopped a few feet before the vehicle. Arms behind their back. Valarie, seeing this, immediately got off the bus and approached the person. On level ground, she was somewhat surprised that the soldier before her was only slightly taller. What more piled on to her surprise as Valarie expected the person who sent the invitation to be the one greeting her, Sargent Major Hank Sinclair. But the soldier that greeted them was a woman and the name Hank is definitely not feminine.

"Uh, good morning," Valarie begin, her nervousness growing. "We're the, ah, Mojave Rose Tankery Team here under invitation."

The soldier smiled at her. "Oh yes, we've been looking forward to your visit."

"Ah...I don't know if I have to salute or not."

The soldier chuckled. "Ha, no you don't. You're not military. Now, for introductions. I'm Staff Sargent Marigold Harris, part of the Public Affairs section here at Grafenwöhr. I'll be with you kids as we tour this facility. We've got quite a few things to see, not to mention that the 41st really wants to see you guys. Sargent Major Sinclair is part of the 41st, you'll meet him and the rest of the unit in due time."

"Sounds neat. I'm Valarie Woodlin, captain of the team.

Harris's arm flinched. "Oh sorry, I heard the word captain and nearly saluted. Force of habit, ya know? Now, is you're team going to sit in that bus all day?"

Valarie looked behind her to see the members of the team looking out the window at them. She gestured at them and soon they piled out. The large group set out, with Harris up in front leading them. Valarie was near her and the pair continued chatting.

"So, what gave you guys the idea to invite us?"

"It was some time after your first match in the internationals. They are a lot of tankery fans on base, hell, practically every woman here actually was in the sport at some point, which inspired them to join the military. Your match against Italy was seen by a lot of people here and since then people have thrown the idea of inviting you because you'll be in Europe for a while. We essentially badgered the higher ups to accept this."

"Cool. Have you been in tankery?"

"MmmHmm, all four years in high school. Nothing fancy like being the captain. I was the humble gunner of a Panzer IV Mark. G."

"Panzer IV?" Valarie echoed. "I'm...very familiar with that tank."

"Make sense. You are a captain, after all."

The team was lead to a lot not at all far from where they arrived where another bus was waiting for them. As Grafenwöhr was such a huge place it was impracticable for everyone to walk where they needed to go. They all piled into the vehicle and once the door closed they were off. Harris stood at the front of the bus and as they drove around the base and passed by all sorts of buildings and structures with her lecturing the team of their purposes. A chapel for those to attend religious services, a fitness center to keep in shape, which is doubly important for those whose job requirement demand them to be fit, locations for the boy and girls scouts, a full-fledged shopping center that had all manner of stores and restaurants, schools for 'brats', as Harris calls them, a bank, a theater, and of course, the barracks. With that and many more aspects that make up Grafenwöhr, what would be amazing to find what the place _doesn't_ have. It's a small American town right in the heart of Germany. Always nice to have familiarity in a foreign country. What they also witnessed was groups of soldiers out doing PT, physical training. They were running together as a unit and though they managed to maintain cohesion, their PT uniforms were drenched in sweat. Soon, the bus got onto a road that lead them away from the core of the base and toward a open area. Buildings dissipated as the views were soon replaced with a more rural area. Yet, it did not get quieter as one would expect when going to what is essentially the countryside. The team suddenly a series of pops in a quick secession. Then it halted for a few brief seconds where it was then heard again. This repeated again and again when soon they discovered the source of it. They passed by a gunnery range where soldiers were at their stations practicing their shooting. It wasn't American soldiers, as Harris was quick to point out, but actually members of the Greek Army here at Grafenwöhr for training. Those lucky to be on the right side had a great view of the soldiers in action, especially since now some soldiers fired a heavy machine gun, whose loud noise and power delighted everyone. Though as match as people would actually enjoy watching the soldiers shoot, the team were here for much bigger guns. They continued down the road where now the base has sunk beneath the horizon. The bus parked in a dirt lot and once it came to a stop, Harris promptly got out with the rest of the team in tow.

"We're walking from here," she told them. "Where we're going isn't terribly far."

The group followed a path that lead them further into the country. As they walked, they could the sound of distant, powerful thuds. Unmistakably it was from artillery fire. As more shots were heard, the excitement among the team grew higher and higher. And this excitement shot up like a rocket when they got to where they were being lead to. In an open field was several vehicles that best resembled trucks with tracks. Mounted on its rear was one hell of a weapon system. Soldiers stood around near them, with the closest taking note of their arrival. One of them made their way toward the group as Harris went ahead to meet with the approaching soldier, the two entering into a conversation.

"What are those things?" Emma questioned. "They don't look like tanks."

"They aren't," Valarie told her. "They're rocket artillery."

Before more could be said about the artillery, the soldier that was near the vehicle now went toward the team. Unlike Harris, he towered over them all and his uniform more fit for action in the field. He scanned the team looking for a particular face, then stopped before Valarie.

"There you are," he said to her. "I recognize you from articles I've read about your exploits. Sargent Major Hank Sinclair. Hope you are finding Grafenwöhr well."

"We've been given the quick tour but we got the gist of things," Valarie told him. "Though, we are here for one thing in particular."

"That you are. Man, I gotta say. I'm digging the WWII tanker uniforms. They look authentic. Are they?"

"Yes!" Valarie said with enthusiasm. "They are the real deal. Wonderfully aged and they still fit and feel great."

Sinclair nodded with approval. "That is what I like to hear. Now," he then said, pointing to one of the vehicles. "You spend all your time in those old vehicles. Happen to know anything about more modern machines?"

Valarie couldn't wipe the smile on her face. "That is a M270 Multiple Launch Rocket System. Self-propelled multiple rocket artillery."

"Well damn. Looks like you know your stuff."

"You don't even know the half of it." Emma quipped.

Sinclair then moved to address the entirety of the team. "You come all the way here and see these artillery vehicles and you most likely think to yourself, 'Are those things going to shoot or what?'. If you were thinking that, well, you're in luck. If you weren't, take this as a surprise. Walk all the way to that treeline and wear those goggles of yours. The best firework show in the world is about to begin."

Beyond eager, the team complied with Sinclair's instructions and walked to the treeline that was about 150 meters from the M270 platoon. Sinclair returned to his vehicle and in the next moment the platoon had their rocket systems deploy. It rose into the air, revealing its arsenal of M26 artillery rockets with each warhead containing 644 anti-personnel/material grenades. The M270s fine tuned their aim, their launchers maneuvering oh so slightly where they all soon came to a stop. Before any one could could even think properly, the M270s opened fire. One volley of rockets was sent down range. Each rocket that left its platform sounded like an enormous clap of thunder. Trails of smoke streaked the sky as the rockets quickly disappeared from view. The team has had an experience with rocket artillery before, that being Mustang's T34 Calliopes. Yet its firepower is totally eclipsed compared to the M270 whose rockets flew faster, farther, and packed one hell of a bigger punch. Sinclair and the rest of the platoon unleashed a storm of firepower, giving no mercy to an empty patch of land 10 miles away. With careful hearing, the team could hear the far off explosions. Once the last rocket left its tube and soared across the sky, silence took hold. In the air was the odor of vaporized propellant along with clouds of smoke and dust that surrounded the M270s. The team were starstruck, totally in awe over the firepower that was just demonstrated. Sinclair got out of one of the M270s and returned to them.

"It never gets old, doesn't it? You guys and your cannons and us with our rockets. I've been at this for years and the feeling of those rockets has never diminished. Now, who among you operates that Soviet artillery?"

Six girls emerged from the team and went up to Sinclair.

"Ah, there you are," he said to them. "Six people in one vehicle, man, that's gotta be crowded. The M270 doesn't have much space either and it only has a crew half of yours."

"Cozy is perhaps the best word for the SU." Jacqueline remarked.

"That is a polite way to put it." Gwen said, one of the gunners.

Sinclair gestured them closer to an M270. "What's the maximum range of your SU?"

"25 kilometers," Jacqueline answered. "Though we have never fired that far before. We're normally much closer. 3-8 kilometers away usually."

"Close range artillery support huh? I getcha. Do you relocate after every shot?"

The SU-14 crew looked at him in silence for a moment.

"Um...we, ah, we don't." Jacqueline admitted.

Sinclair pondered this response. "Uh-huh. Well, since artillery isn't a very common type of vehicle to face in tankery matches, you can be forgiven of not relocating since counter-battery would be rare. But it is still a good tactic to use nonetheless. It what we do all the time. We fire our rockets, fall back to a position to reload, then drive to a different position to attack targets. In your case, you'd take a shot and the moment the shell leaves the barrel, you drive toward a position already planned out. That's called shoot-and-scoot tactics. Also, you say the max range of the gun is 25 klicks, yeah? I say try to make those shots. People absolutely freak out when they come under fire from something they can't see. Plus, the farther you are away, the less likely people can reasonably judge what direction you fired from.

Jacqueline and her crew exchanged glances.

"Alright, we'll take a stab at max range shots when there is an opportunity. But, no way can that be accurate, right?"

"I won't lie to you, accurate shots at such a range will be real hard to pull off. And since your targets will be enemy tanks, well, you might as well be trying to hit an ant from a top of a skyscraper. That and the travel time for the shell means that a tank can easily drive away from the impact zone, even unintentionally. So, best to target clusters of tanks to maximize your chances of landing a hit. Hmm...since I mentioned buildings, do you girls carry some anti-concrete shells with ya?"

"We dont. We just carry a near full load of HE shells with a few smoke and illumination rounds."

"Smoke and illumination rounds are smart, but I'd advice you carrying a few anti-concrete rounds. 'Cause sooner or later you kids will be fighting in an urban environment and the enemy will certainly be under a bridge or tunnel as cover. With an anti-concrete shell, you'll bust them open and perhaps even knock them out in the process."

The mere thought of bringing down a structure hyped the SU-14 like nothing else in the world. Jacqueline turned toward the team and looked right at Valarie.

"VALARIE. WE NEED ANTI-CONCRETE SHELLS!"

"Okay." was Valarie's simple response.

"One more thing," Sinclair said to the SU-14 crew. "Did you guys know that the 25 klicks of the range of that thing isn't really its maximum range?"

"No way, it can shoot_ farther_?" Jacqueline questioned

"That 25 klick range comes from your guns maximum elevation. If you guys drove onto some dirt ramp to tilt your SU back, you'd get more range outta it. 26, maybe even 27 clicks. You're accuracy will be hell, that's for sure but when you need to shoot that much farther, you have a way to do it.

The SU-14 crew were beyond happy to get advice from someone who can actually relate to their experience. Yes, though Sinclair operated rocket artillery he could still dispense relevant advice. Once their chat concluded, Sinclair allowed the team to get up close and personal with the M270s to get familiar with all the little details. All the while, Sinclair sought Valarie out.

"Liked the fireworks show?" he asked her.

"Oh my god, like you wouldn't believe!" Valarie exclaimed.

"Damn right. Though, there had to be something on your mind ever since I sent you that invitation."

"Hmm?"

"Surely you've been thinking why a field artillery unit invited you and, say, not a tank unit?"

"I'll be honest with you. A tank unit would be great to see, but, they aren't any U.S tank units in Europe. They got withdrawn back in April."

"That's true, but, this base isn't just for the U.S ya know. All sorts of countries come to this place to train."

Valarie raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. And, there just so happens to be a tank unit of the Royal Danish Army not too far from us. I know their commander...and they are on break right now."

Valarie's eyes were gleaming. "Please."

"How can I say no with eyes like that? Reminds me of my own daughter. C'mon. Gather your crew. Let's head on out."

Valarie quickly got her crew and together followed Sinclair to a HUMVEE that was parked nearby. He drove them several minutes away to another large and expansive clearing. There were five tanks belonging to the Denmark, Leopard 2A5s. Valarie couldn't not contain herself, rocking in her seat as she waited for the HUMVEE to come to a stop.

"You four wait here," Sinclair told them. "I gotta talk to the commander and get his approval."

He got out of the vehicle to get to talking. All the while, Valarie had a laser focus on the nearby Leopards.

"A Rheinmetall L/44 120mm gun for its main armament, can go nearly 70 kilometers per hour, and armor that we can only assume is fantastic because its exact protection detail is classified."

"That turret has a futuristic vibe to me." Ashley remarked.

"All that firepower speeding around the battlefield, man oh man. A team with one Leopard 1 can just destroy the opposition, not matter how much tanks they field." Emma added.

"It'd be totally unfair," Heather said. "But totally fun as well."

As they chatted, they then saw Sinclair wave them over. The T-44 eagerly got out of the vehicle and marched right toward the Leopards. Sinclair was with a man from the Danish army, a commander of one of the Leopards. He looked at the girls and studied them for a moment.

"So, you four are part of the American team in the world competition, hmm?" The commander said to them. "Getting this far means you got the experience. Sargent Major Sinclair has made good points so I'm prepare to make you girls an offer. Would you like to operate this Leopard?" he said, pointing to the tank behind him.

Valarie felt her breath be taken away. "Are...are you serious?"

The Danish commander nodded. "It's not unusual for me. In Denmark, the army sometimes allows tankery teams to take their MBTs for a spin. Your uniforms, while outdated, will be adequate enough for operations."

Valarie's crew looked at her with eyes full of awe and excitement. They were waiting for her command.

"Mount up!"

The girls ran and climbed on to the Leopard. The Danish commander gave quick instructions on how the hatches worked so that they could get inside, and told them that shooting the gun was strictly prohibited. That was all that he said to them as from that moment on, they were to figure things out themselves. In the turret, Valarie, Emma and Ashley got into their positions. Finding where the commander, gunner, and loader sat wasn't particular hard to determine. Though what was daunting was the computers and other electronics that were the mainstay of main battle tanks. They examined the fighting compartment closely when the Leopard jolted forward, and then, drove on.

"I figured it out!" Heather exclaimed from the front.

"Woah, Heather!" Valarie called out. "We're sill trying to get comfortable here!"

"That's on you. I'm finding my groove with this thing."

Heather wasn't being cautious with her driving. Once she figured out what controls did what, she put the Leopard in gear and slammed on the accelerator. There was a nearby path and she followed it. All the while, the rest of the crew got situated. Ashley's position quite cozy though better than being on the other side of the breech where both Valarie and Emma were. She looked around where she sat. There was the usual vision devices, though of course much more sophisticated compared to what the T-44 had. Looking around more, she saw and opened a sliding door and found the ammo. She couldn't resist pulling out a round to see it all.

"We're not allowed to shoot, Ashley." Valarie reminded her

"Oh, he said nothing about this. I mean, look at this!"

She presented them with an armor-piercing fin-stablized discarding sabot round. The warhead was what drew gasps of surprise. It look so radically different compared to the standard armor-piercing rounds for the T-44's 100mm gun. That tungsten dart, the projectile that flies at speeds greater than sound, looked like the pure definition of devastation.

On the other side of the cannon breech, Emma was before the gun's sight. She pressed her face against it and couldn't help but let out an amazed laugh. Even with the Leopard traveling at 50 kilometers per hour, she saw that the sight remained perfectly still thanks to the stabilizers. That, and all the other equipment and electronics whose purpose was to ensure accurate shots, she was in love.

"Getting the title of gun shot bride must be super easy with this thing. God...do I want that title..."

Behind her was Valarie who was on cloud nine. Her hands were all over the interior walls of the Leopard, as if she couldn't believe that was was happening was for real. She opened the commander's hatch and popped out of it. The familiar sensation of the wind hitting her face felt much more sweeter than ever before. Though the T-44 will always have a special place in her heart for being the first tank she has commanded, this experience with the Leopard won't be forgotten by her. It'll be treasured among all the other memories she has formed since she has joined this team. An idea hit her. She ordered the tank to come to a halt and handed her phone to Emma.

"Get out of the tank and take a picture of me popped out of the hatch. I want to make my parents go insane."

"Oh you got it!"

Emma did what she told and took a few pictures she that Valarie could pick out the best one. In all the pictures, she was smiling so much hard that her eyes were closed. Once the girls had their fun, they returned back to the Danes and hopped out of the Leopard. They looked like they just came out of a sauna. Relaxed and satisfied. Sinclair noted how they looked and chuckled.

"A good time, I take it?" he asked them.

"This whole day is better than a good time." Valarie responded.

"Well that's fantastic to hear. Thank you, Sargent Major Sinclair for all of this."

"Hold your thanks, we aren't done just yet," he told her. Sinclair went to the HUMVEE parked nearby and rummaged through one of the storage lockers. When he returned, he had a helmet in his hands. "When you agreed to come visit, I knew that a gift of some sort had to be involved."

Sinclair handed the helmet to Valarie. It was a U.S Military CVC Tanker helmet. Unlike her own helmet, this one had a ballistic shell which gave it some weight. What more, it had an incorporated headset that would make radio communication the easiest it could ever be.

"I've had to look around everywhere to find one that was in a desert camo to match your uniform and it was surprisingly hard. And, man, you would not believe all the paper work that had to be done just to let you have it. It's surplus for god's sake." Sinclair explained.

Valarie removed her own helmet and put the new one on. It felt wonderfully snug and fit her well. She toyed with the headset and moved the microphone close to her mouth. She then noticed the wire that was dangling about that was meant to connect to the radio. An adapter will for sure be needed to make the headset work with the radio in the T-44. She pulled off the goggles on her old helmet and strapped them on her new one. And with that, her new look was complete. Sinclair leaned back with a hand on his chin as if he was an artist admiring some work in a museum. He gave a nod.

"Ready for damn battle," he told her with approval. "That helmet will probably not be some match decider, but I hope it serves you well enough."

"Oh it will. Thank you."

"It's our pleasure. You know, we're quite alike you and I. We are both representing the United States in some shape or form. There's an honor to that. Also, I noticed that they have a handful of boys on your team. I have some nephews who love the sport want to join a team of their own. But, because the sport is so female dominated, they're scared of taking the first step out of fearing of being bullied or harassed. If you do well in the tournament, hell, even damn win it all, you'd be helping my nephews and other boys all over so much."

Valarie took in his words and repeated them in her mind. The mood took a more solemn turn. "The only thing I can promise is that we will do our best."

Sinclair shot her a grin. "Your best got you this far."

The pair shook hands.

"Now," Sinclair continued. "All this excitement surely made you all hungry. Let's head down to the mess hall. Dispel some myths about military food."

.

.

.

_Stockholm, Sweden_

_Same Day_

Nestled in his home in the suburbs, Elias was sat on the couch in his living room. Before him on the coffee table was his laptop and the docket from his deceased father. He was reclined on the coach and let out an exasperated sigh. His wife, who took note of his frustration, went over to his side.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Is that thing from your father troubling you?"

"Kind of," Elias told her. "Matilda, have I explained to you fully what this is all about?"

Matilda shook her head. "You mentioned a tank but nothing more."

"It's a hunt. My dad bought a tank and hid it somewhere in Europe. He wrote all these cryptic clues for people to decipher and follow that will lead them to it. It's an historical tank and judging from the title, a German one from the First World War."

"That sounds fun!" his wife exclaimed. "Why don't we get our friends and family and seek it out ourselves?"

"We can't. Part of the rules my father stipulated that close friends and family are prohibited from finding the tank. My only role in this is to find someone suitable to initiate the hunt. From there, it's hands off."

"Odd rules, isn't it?"

"At a first glance, but you can infer from it that my dad wanted someone who was at the very least some kind of history or tank enthusiast. I'm not into tanks. You aren't either. We don't know anyone who is. Hence, the prohibition. He wants someone who can appreciate the find."

Matilda nodded. "Alright. So you have to find the right candidate for the hunt. That can't be too difficult."

"Oh, but it is!" Elias exclaimed. "I've have gone to five different web forums and made a post about this hunt. I've been banned from those five sites because they think I am 'trolling'. They think the whole thing is too fantastical to be taken seriously."

"Oh..."

"I'm not going to give up on this. I will find the right person to start this hunt, too honor my dad's last wish," he grabbed his laptop and started typing. "Just who shall it be..."


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prost!

_Monday August 26th, 2013_

_Port of Hamburg_

France. Britain. Spain. Italy. Martin and Gabrielle has toured them all, seen and done what those countries had to offer. It was all the touristy stuff, of course, but they loved it all the same as when would they have another opportunity like this again? They had spent the previous week honeymooning in Europe and now it was time to return to the ship and back to the team. The couple were driving for hours all the way from the southern most part of Italy back to the Port of Hamburg. It was the crack of dawn when they finally returned. Though, instead of heading straight home, Gabrielle was insistent on checking on the garage first. While Martin would love nothing more than to plop onto a bed and dive into sleeping, he knew it was futile to sway Gabrielle otherwise on this. The moment the car came to a stop in front of the large front mechanical doors of the garage, Gabrielle got out of the vehicle and walked straight toward one of the side doors.

"Gabby," Martin said to her. "What's the rush here?"

"I want to know what they did in the past week." she explained.

"Don't you trust them?"

"Depends on what I find."

Gabrielle reached into her pocket, got out a key, and opened the door. She walked in and promptly began her inspection. What she immediately noticed was the neat parking of the team's vehicles. They didn't slack on that just because the adults weren't there. That pleased her. She continued her walk around the garage floor. Gabrielle came across the Stuart that caused her to stop in her tracks.

"Huh. That's new, smoke mortars."

A turn of her head and her eyes laid upon the Jagdpanzer IV.

"Side skirts," she remarked. "Looks like you kids did some shopping."

Martin caught up with her moments later. He looked around then smiled.

"They took good care of the place. Hell, I think it looks better than ever."

Gabrielle remained silent as she brought a hand to her chin.

"The Jumbo has a new 76mm gun, there is a surplus of IR kits on those shelves over there, several crates of sabot rounds, a few heavy duty hydraulic jacks, and most likely some over things I'm not seeing right now."

"Are you...upset?"

She turned to face him, revealing a grin. "No, why would I be? These are all wise purchases. They have proven to me that they can operate all aspects of the team by themselves."

"That's great to here. I suppose we can truly sleep easy."

"Well, you can," Gabrielle said as she patted her stomach. "It's not getting easier for me to have a good night's sleep."

"Oh? Why's that?"

Gabrielle tilted her head to the side, the expression on her face one of puzzlement.

"It could be because I have two people growing inside me. I'm just guessing though..."

Martin turned red. "Right. So, how about we head home now and get some sleep before the meeting later today?"

"Sure," Gabrielle replied. The couple moved toward the exit as she took one more glace at the place. "Man, the place is so clean. It makes you think if anything really happened in here."

* * *

It was noon. Valarie and Emma were enjoying their lunch break underneath the familiar palm tree. Well, as much enjoyment teenagers can have reading a textbook. Thankfully, the contents of said book captured their interests. It wasn't about algebra, calculus, physics, or god forbid _chemistry_. It was a meteorology textbook. Valarie liked the material well enough, though Emma was completely enamored with it.

"Whoever came up with the names for all these types of clouds must hate people who stutter." Valarie remarked.

"Stratocumulus, Cumulonimbus, orgraphic," Emma read aloud. "At least cirrus is easy to pronounce. I like to look of those clouds. Always cool and serene to gaze as they float by."

"That they are," Valarie said. She read on and found something that surprised her. "Huh? Stratocumulus is a...genus? I thought that word only applied to biology. And there's different species of stratocumulus clouds? Clouds...clouds can have species? They are also varieties of strato-whatever but species and varieties are different things? Alright, whose the jerk that made clouds this damn complicated?"

"I think clouds by their nature are complicated." Emma told her.

Valarie sighed and continued reading. She found something else and showed it to Emma. "Hey check this out, it's a photo of a tornado being formed."

Emma looked over at the photo. "Terrifying. Imagine seen one form right before your eyes. The funnel coming out from a cloud and toward the earth hellbent on causing chaos at whatever is before it. Yet, at the same time, to see a tornado would be beyond thrilling...from a safe distance of course."

"Ha. Suit yourself. If I even think a tornado is forming near me, I'm getting the hell outta there."

They shared a laugh and resumed their reading. Several minutes go by when Valarie then felt a presence approach from behind. This person wrapped their arms around her. By now, Valarie could tell it was Madison by touch.

"Ooh, I like the hug," Valarie remarked with a grin. "A pleasant surprise is always nice."

"And I got another one to give you," Madison told her. "To the whole team actually. A special someone is coming to visit."

"A special someone?" Valarie echoed with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"A former tankery athlete turned instructor. Funny how so many athletes go down that road."

"We already have an instructor." Emma said.

"I'm well aware. She and he husband currently lives in my parent's second home on the ship. One that they rarely...rarely use. Anyway! This particular person has very relevant experience. She was on the old American team back in 1975."

Valarie gasped. "No. Way! You found a member of the last American team who won the internationals?"

"She was easier to find than you, Valarie," Madison teased. "Her name is Candace Merryweather. A 55-year-old tankery instructor for Ohio State."

"oh wow," reacted Valarie. "An instructor for a college."

"She must have stories to tell not only once being in the internationals, but also immersed in college-level tankery." Emma added

"What was her role in the old team?" Valarie then asked.

"Ah, if I recall right she was the co-captain."

"Co-captain huh?" Not to disrespect her or anything, but wouldn't getting the _captain_ be more appropriate here?"

"Oh believe me, their captain was originally who me and Alice set out to find. We expected to find her contact info, instead...we found her obituary. Passed away five years ago. Breast cancer."

"Damn. That...that sucks to hear."

"Tell me about it," Madison said with a sigh. "Anywho. Mrs. Merryweather will arrive Wednesday."

Valarie giggled with excitement. "Oh man, Wednesday is gonna be a great day!"

Upon hearing that, Madison couldn't stifle a huge grin from forming. "Say, you girls have any plans this evening after your meeting?"

"Not really. After the meeting, me and Emma are just gonna hang out in our apartment."

"Well..." Madison said as she leaned in. "How about you girls join me in an outing later this evening? Why wait till Wednesday to have a good day?"

"What do you have in mind? An art museum?" Emma joked.

"Ha. Funny. I'm actually thinking of us going to a bar."

"Woah, hold on now," Valarie spoke. "None us here is 21. We're not old enough to drink."

"That's true in America," Madison told them. "But in Germany, the drinking age is 16."

"...Alright. Where in Germany is this bar?"

"It's on the ship actually."

Valarie looked at her confused. "Wait. I thought this ship is considered American soil and therefore American law applies here."

"Mostly true. You see, there is a certain area in town that has been granted a special privilege. Extraterritoriality. Whenever this ship is docked in another country for an extended period of time, this special area hosts businesses and services that are unique to the country we are visiting. In our case, there is a bar in that area that caters to the young. Since the special area is right now operating under German law, it's legal for us to have a drink."

Valarie pondered what was just said to her while Emma had already made up her mind.

"I'm game." she declared.

"Man, I dunno." Valarie remarked.

"My, Valarie. You're acting like you never had a drink before." Madison said with an all-knowing smile."

"How do you—"

"Alice told me because she was the one that got you guys that bottle of rum. Good choice, by the way."

Valarie let out an amused laugh. "I always wondered where Ashley got that bottle. Now I know. I'm just apprehensive about going to a bar. That's all."

"It's a bar that caters to young people. You'll be among your peers, not among adults twice, thrice your age." Madison comforted.

After several more moments of contemplation, Valarie finally nodded. "Okay. I'll give it a shot."

"I think the shots will be given to you actually," Madison teased. She then brought her hands together with a clap. "This is gonna be a fun night! Oh! Bring the rest of your crew. Let's make it a girl's night out!

"Oh yeah, they're coming."

"And of course...the drinks are on me."

* * *

With the school day over, the Mojave Rose tankery team were doing their routine. Today, that was more alive now more than ever with the return of Gabrielle who were more than ready to resume their administrative roles. When the two arrived at the garage in the afternoon, they found the team had reached the place before them and were already well underway with their tasks. Valarie soon went up to them and explained to them in vivid and excited detail of all that transpired over the weekend. All the tanks the team saw at the museum in Munster and the visit to the army base Grafenwöhr, especially the live fire exercise and the drive in a Leopard 2. Plus, she showed them the CVC helmet she was gifted. The adults shared in her excitement as it proved to be infectious. This happy mood only soared when they were informed of the upcoming arrival of the tankery veteran from the old American team.

"Just a flurry of good news," Gabrielle remarked. "A fantastic weekend and we're gonna be visited by someone who really knows their shit. Though I am your instructor, I'm not too proud to admit that they are people who are way more knowledgeable than me."

"Very cool indeed," Martin commented. "All that plus the new equipment you guys acquired makes me feel that we are well prepared for our match on Saturday."

"Don't wanna make any guarantees or anything, but I got a good feeling about the match." Valarie shared.

With that, the three went to their respective areas. Valarie rejoined her crew at the T-44 who were doing their usual duties, though Valarie's attention was elsewhere. Her focus was on her new helmet as she couldn't get enough of it. It felt weight in her hands, heavier than her old helmet, which was an aspect that she actually liked. She tapped her knuckles on the outer part and it produced a sound akin to knocking on a door. What she loved most about it was the integrated headset. With a new method of communication at her disposal, her mind dwelled upon her now old throat microphone that her parents had gifted her several months ago. She dug them out of her pocket and looked at them in silence. What she will do with them now? She considered her options and one of them was definitely not selling them, even though they were in great condition and could easily make a profit on the sale. That thought never even partially manifested in her mind for that family practice of not selling gifts was so incredibly ingrained in her. She went to her backpack that was with the other bags from her crew that were by the tank. Valarie fetched the case for the throat microphone and the box in came in, for she kept it, and stored in carefully within. She made it look like the microphone was never taken out from its box.

Also from her backpack she retrieved an adapter for her new helmet. she climbed and entered the turret of the T-44 and in no time connected the right cables. She flipped on the radio and was happy to hear the sounds of static fill her ears. A dial was turned and the static was gone. On the cable that connected the helmet to the radio was a switch that controlled the microphone. She pressed the switch.

"Testing...testing."

Aubrey was the first to respond. "Uh. Hello. Are we doing a radio test or something?"

"No. Just trying out some new equipment. I gotta say. It's real _nice_ to talk over the radio hands free. Nearly a year on this team and I can finally say I feel liberated."

"You guys say something?" Mia then said.

"Oh sorry—" Valarie began but was cut off.

"I heard something about a radio test," Sage said. "Are we doing good?"

"Guys—" Valarie spoke, trying to get control.

"I hear everyone loud and clear. Test going good." Natalie interjected.

"Radio system one-hundred percent here." Paige shared.

"Guys." Valarie said once more but her words went unheeded as the radio waves were too occupied.

"Why is everyone talking? What's going on?" Louise inquired.

"Oh, was there a radio test on the agenda? Damn, I forgot. Sorry." Ray remarked.

An onslaught of questions and conversations over the radio that went on for only twenty seconds yet each sliver of time aggravated Valarie. She did not at all appreciate being cut off.

"Everybody. Shut. _Up_."

All the voices went dead silent. She didn't raise her voice, though its tone was unmistakably serious. It had a coldness to it that came from a person that was anything but cold. With some anxiety, the team waited for what she had to say next.

"...It's good to know all of your radios are working," she said with calm. "But from now on, let's try not to go all crazy on it, okay?"

The team's commanders responded in the affirmative. All save for one.

"Hey sorry," Jacqueline then said. "Our radio can be a bit fussy every now and then, but we always get it working eventually. Valarie, since I got ya on the line, any news on our anti-concrete shells?"

Valarie stared forward for several moments. "It's barely been a day since we left Grafenwöhr. Go ask Mrs. Redwood about your request because she's back now."

"Gotcha, we'll get right on it."

Valarie turned off the radio before another soul could utter a word, then reclined in her seat.

"Jeez..."

The commander's hatch then opened above her with Emma's head peaking in. "Did something happen? You look upset."

Valarie softly smiled at her. "Ah, it's nothing. Though I am wanting those drinks later a bit more now."

The rest of the meeting that day went smoothly and productively. Once the team were dismissed, the T-44 crew hurried back to their apartment and changed into more comfortable clothing suitable for a night out. When they returned outside, Madison was there waiting for them. Ashley walked quickly ahead of her friends to meet her.

"I haven't misheard anything right? You're taking us out for drinks?"

Madison nodded. "Yup. A fun evening is in store for us."

Ashley giggled and then looked toward Valarie. "What a sister you have."

Valarie could only blush and smile in response.

"So, are we walking there?" Heather inquired.

"No. Unless you girls are in the mood to walk four miles, we'll be driven there."

As if it was on cue, and considering it was Madison who organized tonight's plan it wouldn't be surprising if it was, a stretched limo parked by them.

"Driving in luxury, of course." Madison told them.

With eagerness gripping them all, the girls piled into the limousine and were off to their destination. The drive to the special area in town took around 10 minutes and each moment spent in the limo was a grandiose experience. Nicely air conditioned with comfortable leather seating. They felt like movie stars being treated like this, a feeling Madison is quite accustomed too thanks to having a film director as a mother. The limo soon pulled over at a parking lot and the girls got out. They followed Madison down a sidewalk when they all then stopped again. Ahead of them, on either side of the road, were two flag poles. Hoisted on them both were the German flag.

"Past those flags is the special area of town. For all intents and purposes, it's Germany." Madison explained.

"What a border," Valarie remarked. "No lines. Nice and easy."

"Shall we?"

They resumed their walk and passed the flags. Back into Germany they go. As the girls walked, they could feel an festive atmosphere growing in the air. The sidewalk soon grew populated with other people, people who were similar in age them all heading to the same destination. They found themselves in the front of a wooden building with the sounds of glass clinking and people laughing coming from within. Without a shadow of a doubt they were at the bar. Valarie looked through the window and saw tables filled to the brim with patrons with their hands full with drinks. The lights gave off a faint orange glow to mimic the aesthetic of fireplace. The bar was incredibly inviting which greatly comforted Valarie. On the window itself was a poster, which Emma read aloud.

"Monday night trivia contest," she informed. "Say, that sounds fun. Why not participate?"

"I'm game for some bar trivia." Madison shared.

"Yeah, why not?" Valarie said with a nod. "Let's make this night ever funner."

The girls walked into the bar where a waitress lead them to an upstairs area. They were seated against a wall where they had a view of a stage with a microphone at the ready.

"What do you ladies want to start with tonight?" the waitress asked.

"Mind ordering for us Madison? I've got this feeling you know your way around a bar." Valarie asked with a grin.

Madison feigned shocked. "Valarie, is this how you see me? Ruude!" she looked toward the waitress. "Five French 75s, please"

The waitress took their order and left. Valarie leaned toward her sister with an amused smile. "Now I know that waitress isn't gonna come back with a 75mm gun. What's a French 75 here?"

"A nice concoction of syrup, fresh lemon juice, sparkling champagne, and some gin. Glass garnish with a lemon twist."

"God, we're starting off with _gin_?"

"Yup! Considering its name, I think it's highly appropriate for you guys."

"Why is it called a French 75?" Ashley questioned

"Because when you drink it, you feel like you get hit by the gun.

"Ooh, I like the sound of that."

As they waited for their drinks, a man went up to the stage nearby. He had a pile of cards with him that he set aside on a podium. He got on the mic.

"Our trivia contest will begin in a few minutes. If you've haven't been here before, here's how it goes down. Questions are at pure random with no theme to them. One could be about a specific movie, the next can be what is the name of a certain river. Buzzers will be how you answer questions, they'll be passed around. Each question is worth ten points. The table that has the most points wins."

"Sounds simple enough." Valarie said to her table.

"Yeah, but random questions though," Heather remarked. "If we go on a streak, it can be abruptly broken by a question none of knows."

"That's just the name of the game." Madison said.

In the next minute, buzzers were passed to participating tables. What more, their drinks arrived. Five glasses were handed to them. Valarie looked at her drink closely. It looked like sparkling lemonade. She brought the drink to her nose and smelled it. She recoiled slightly back as the aroma of gin was felt by her.

"All together now," Madison said as she rose her glass. "Let's officially start the night."

All of their glasses clinked together and they all proceeded to take a drink. The moment the liquor torched Valarie's lips, her eyes were forcibly closed but kept drinking. The initial sting of the alcohol subsided and she could now taste the wonderful flavors. She set her glass down and opened her eyes to find her table looking at her.

"What?" she asked.

"You drank the entire glass in one motion." Madison told her.

Valarie looked around and saw the other glasses in the table still had their liquor in them.

"Oh. Oh wow," Valarie reacted. "It was pretty good. I like the taste of gin, as it turns out. Or at least, I like the taste of what I think is gin. Didn't feel like getting shelled by a 75 though."

Madison smirked. "The night's just started. We got more drinks to go through."

A waiter came by and placed a buzzer on their table. A minute later, the lights were dimmed save for the lights over the stage. The man at the stage shuffled his cards and selected one. He tapped on the microphone to gather everyone's attention.

"Let's get right into things! Hope you all have a bunch of useless information stored in your head," he said. The man then read the first question. "Category. Film. The horror movie _Shifting Sands _was the directorial debut for who?"

Madison's eyes widen as she grabbed and pressed the buzzer. "Scarlet Force!"

"Correct! Ten points for table 17!"

Madison reclined in her seat with a smug smile.

"What is _Shifting Sands_?" Valarie asked.

"The movie that launched my mom's career as a Hollywood director. Won an Emmy the year it came out for outstanding visual effects."

"Visual effects huh? What was the movie about."

"It's a horror movie about these huge, ravenous worms that tunnel under the ground. They attack an drilling rig looking for oil out in a desert with the operators fighting to survive. Man, the scene with one of the worms grabbing a guy and using its beak to tear him in two was super gory and super cool."

"Not a big fan of gory films."

Madison shrugged. "Me either, but because my mom made it, I make an exception."

"OkayOkayOkay," Heather then said. "The guy is gonna say the next question now."

"Category. Sports," the man announced. "In 77 years of operation, the American Tankery Association has never cancelled a match even despite serious weather conditions. All save for only two times. What happened to cause these cancellations?"

Valarie held the buzzer in hand and pressed it. The man looked toward her, waiting for a response. "Cancelled after Pearl Harbor and 9/11."

"Correct, another ten points for table 17."

"Only twice?" Madison inquired.

"Yeah, that was the only times they ever full canceled or postponed a match. Because of that, they get a lot of criticism when they force athletes to play when things like the weather is so horrible."

"Really?" Madison remarked, feeling defensive as the thought as her sister getting hurt bothered her. "Someone outta straight up to their leadership and knock some sense into them."

Valarie laughed. "You're more right than you know."

More questions were asked and Valarie's table enjoyed some success. Their streak continued until they racked up 40 points but was broken when a question about dinosaurs stumped them all, with another table snatching it up. From then on, the girls won points sparingly though they were winning a healthy amount. As they played, Madison ordered another round of drinks, this time mimosas. A drink where champagne was mixed with orange juice. This was something Valarie loved the taste off and quickly drank it all, with her asking for another glass. Another set of questions gone by when now the girls were in the top 3.

"It's getting a little tense now," Heather said. "Table 13 is only one question away from taking second place from us."

"And we're a question away from tying with first place." Madison added.

The man on the stage proceeded with the question. "Category. Video games. This contest held by Atari in the 1980s had players compete in a game for prizes like a golden crown studded with precious gems. What was the game they were playing?"

Emma felt all the eyes on the table on her.

"You _have_ to know this!" Ashley exclaimed. "You're all about video games! Especially retro ones and this one was in the 80s!"

"I know! It's an Atari 2600 game for sure...but..." Emma had her hands at her head. "Man! The name...it's on the tip of my tongue!"

"I remember you telling me about a contest, Emma," Valarie told her. "Was around the same time too. You told me that the contest didn't finished."

"Yeah yeah, the video game crash in 1983 messed up Atari along with a whole bunch of other companies. And it's not just a game it was a series. God...what was the name of the series..."

Emma racked her brain trying to remember. Other tables remained silent as they too were trying to figure out the answer.

"What were these games like?" Madison asked.

"Well, since it was on an old ass video game console, the games were probably like a square on the screen where you had to imagine that it was some guy with a sword." Ashley joked

"Sword..." Emma repeated. Her eyes lit up. "Oh, that's it!" She grabbed the buzzer and nearly screamed her answer. "SwordQuest!"

"That's it!" The man replied. "Ten points for you! Table 17 is now tied for first place with Table 11. Our next question will be the final one. Winner takes the game. If no one gets it right, it ends in a draw."

"No way in hell is this ending in a draw," Valarie declared as she drank her fourth mimosa. She took a deep breath. "Whatever question comes next, we will figure it out."

Madison saw the small collection of empty glasses before Valarie. "Hmm. I think you are done drinking tonight."

"No...no...I'm fine," Valarie replied. She swayed slightly as she did. "In fact, I bet I can drink more...also, didn't you say we'd be doing shots earlier?"

"That was a joke," Madison told her. "If you take a shot, I really think that will be send you over the deep end. You'll be so _wasted_."

"Naaah"

"I kinda wanna see Valarie wasted." Ashley commented.

"Same." Heather added.

"I'm a bit curious," Emma said. "After all, you did say this was a comfortable place for young people."

Madison looked at them all. "Alright...Alright. Let's just finish this trivia first."

"Fair enough." Valarie replied.

The man on the stage reshuffled his cards and closed his eyes to doubly ensure that he picked the final question at random. "The procedure where surgeons remove a small piece of tissue to determine that its cancerous is called what?"

All the girls drew blanks.

"No clue." Heather said.

"I got nothing." Ashley added.

Emma and Madison could only shrug.

"A name of a surgery," Valarie thought aloud. "Surgery names can get pretty crazy."

"Alright, let's think about it," Madison said. "It's all about the suffixes and prefixes. Example. Rhinoplasty. _Rhino_ refers to the nose and _plasty_ means to modify."

"Sounds way too smart for me." Ashley admitted.

"Thirty seconds left to answer." the man announced.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this is gonna end in a damn draw!" Valarie exclaimed.

As the girls pondered furiously over what the answer could be, one of the bar's patrons went to their table and sat with them. Before any of them could figure out who this person was, they grabbed the buzzer and answered.

"Biopsy."

"Correct! Table 17 has won the contest!"

The girls turned to face their new table mate and were surprised to see it was a familiar face.

"Viola?" Madison said with a smile. "How long have you been here?"

"Two hours. Maybe more."

"Who are you with?"

"No one. Well, now with you. I've been watching you play this game as I enjoy some French wine."

"You came in clutch there," Ashley told her. "And thanks to you, we won! What did we win?"

"I don't know," Valarie said. "Something fun I hope."

Soon, a waitress arrived with a tray. "Congrats on the contest. Your prize..." she said as she placed six small glasses crusted with salt before them along with some lime slices. "Shots of premium tequila. 110 proof and made from 100% agave."

She departed, leaving the girls staring at the drinks.

"This is definitely the stronger stuff." Madison remarked.

"God damn tequila," Ashley said. "I'm really glad I came."

Viola was the first to grab a glass. "_Wunderbar!_ I love Mexico!"

The rest grabbed their glasses and all together downed their shot. All the girls coughed and sucked on the limes they were given as a chaser.

"Oh man," Emma said amid coughs. "That had power behind that, geez."

"A nice punch...if punches could feel good that is." Ashley shared.

Valarie was staring dead ahead. "I think I'm...tipsy."

"No, I'm tipsy," Viola told her. "You're _drunk_."

Valarie rubbed her face with her hands. "Oh god...I am!"

Madison laughed. "Well, we are all not certainly sober. It's time to call it a night," she checked her phone. "It's 11 o'clock. We all got school tomorrow."

Valarie stood up from the table and stumbled forward a few steps. Emma went over to her side to stop her from falling.

"Good god, am I really gonna go to class with a hangover?" Valarie said.

"Hey, college students do it," Madison told her. "And they seem to do alright."

"If you say so."

With a night of drinking at its end, the girls left the bar and made their way back home to sleep off the liquor. A whole bunch of hangovers lay in store them.

* * *

_Wednesday_

Once the school day came to a close, the Mojave Rose tankery team had their meeting as usual. Yet the meeting didn't take place immediately after school as there was a two hour buffer between the two. Ray has always looked forward to this part of the day as it allowed for the opportunity to relax from the day. He was in his apartment alone, waiting for Natalie to come so that the two could hang out. Ray laid on the couch with the TV on as he waited and nearly fell asleep doing when a knock on the door got his attention. He went to answer it expecting to see his girlfriend, but found it to be Cassidy along with her brother.

"Oh. Hello. What's up?" he greeted.

"I, ah, I need your help." Cassidy said.

"With what?"

Cassidy looked at her brother. "This baby right here has a troubled relationship with anything healthy. Wanna know his breakfast this morning? A bag of sliced pepperoni. God, he eats so much meat."

"It is not my fault things like hamburgers taste good!" Nathan interjected.

"Hamburgers are good, but maybe don't have them nearly everyday!?"

"So...how do you want me help you?" Ray asked.

"I learned by talking to other people on the team that you can cook. You must have some healthy recipes that I hope are light on the meat?"

Ray tapped his chin with his fingers. "Hmm. I think I got just the recipe for you. It has not meat at all yet very delicious."

"How can something without meat taste good?" Nathan questioned.

"I'll show you."

He invited the pair inside and went right into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and got out the ingredients. Wasn't anything complicated. A piece of tortilla, two eggs, and two sweet potatoes. Cassidy cocked her head the side upon seeing what he got out.

"What meal can make with this?" she asked him.

"A good one," he told her. "And healthy too."

Ray got out a pan, put it on the stove and brought the heat up to medium. As the pan heated up, he diced up the tortilla. Canola oil was poured into the pan and once it was nice and hot, put the tortilla pieces in the pan, immediately sizzling.

"What we're making is _huevos con tortilla_. Diced tortilla cooked in oil to make it crispy like a chip," Ray explained. He grabbed some salt and seasoned the tortilla. Then he cracked the two eggs and added them to the pan where it was all mixed together. "My mom makes this all the time. So easy and so good."

Once the eggs were sufficiently scrambled, he moved the pan to another part of the stove and placed a pot on the flame. More canola oil was poured in and while that heated up, he went and sliced the sweet potatoes into fries and poured them into the pot to cook. Ray resumed his attention to the eggs, still steaming, and plated them. A few more minutes and the fries were done. He collected them carefully in a bowl where he put a light cover on salt on them. The fries were added to the eggs as a side and the plate was presented to Nathan.

The 13-year-old grabbed a fork and inspected the meal. He then took a bite.

"So, what do you think?" Ray asked, a bit anxious.

"This...this tastes good!" Nathan exclaimed. "The tortilla taste like chips and I like that." he next tried the sweet potatoes fries. "Hey, these are good too! I think I like them better than regular fries."

"See Nathan? See?" Cassidy said. "See what happens when you try new things? You love them!"

Nathan finished his meal with a happy look on his face. "I really liked that. Not even kidding. That's my new favorite meal."

"That what I like to hear." Ray said with a grin.

"Thanks Ray. I'm going back home because my show is about to come on. Very, ah, very mature show."

"Yeah, you better run," Cassidy said. "Can't miss Spongebob now."

"I-it's not Spongebob!" Nathan shot back in a stutter before leaving.

Cassidy turned toward Ray. "Thank you. Like, you have no idea how happy I am over this. He actually likes something healthy now. God, I've been trying for ages and you managed to do it. Thank you, again."

"Ah, it's nothing. I like to help and I like to cook. When the two comes together, well, that makes me feel nice." Ray replied.

"This really means the world to be," Cassidy said, then blushed. "Ah, if you weren't already taken..."

Ray blushed in kind. "Well then, um," he said but interrupted himself with a laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Ha, you do that. Catch ya later man!"

Cassidy left the apartment. Alone again, Ray returned to the couch and got right back to lounging. Though it wasn't long before another knock came from his door. He answered it and it was who he was expecting originally.

"Hey Nat," he greeted. "Been waiting for you."

"Why was Cassidy here?" she asked in a near accusatory tone.

Ray was a bit taken aback over the seemingly sudden question. "Uh, she was here 'cause she wanted some help with her brother. A healthy meal. I just got done cooking for him."

He gestured toward the kitchen where Natalie saw the messy pots and pans. She also smelled in the air the aroma of cooked food.

"Ooh. Okay. I get it." she replied.

"Do you want me to cook something for you?"

"No thanks, not really hungry. I just want to sit on the couch with you and and cuddle."

"I like the sound of that."

The couple relaxed on the couch together, enjoying their time before they had to get ready for the meeting later. Natalie wrapped her arms around him and Ray noticed that she was holding him much tighter than usual. While this was something he loved, he couldn't help but think about that small but important detail.

_Later_

At the garage, the team were taking extra steps to ensure that their vehicles were in their best condition. Each tank was given a deep cleaning to expunge any and all grime that could be on their armor. This was all not without reason. The team had been well informed before hand that today they were to receive a visit from a special individual. Valarie oversaw the team as they went about their tasks. There wasn't much to clean to begin with as it has been several days since they have last practiced. After a view minutes of supervision, Valarie then went outside to wait for the incoming visor. She looked up and down the street. Empty. Madison had told her earlier in the day that Candace would arrive sometime when the meeting was occurring, but couldn't give an exact time frame.

She ran her fingers through her hair and used her phone as a mirror to check herself. She still felt a bit hungover but nothing like the previous day where when she woke up she felt sluggish as hell along with a splitting headache. With time it dissipated though not yet fully. Though she definitely did not regret the night out.

From down the street did she see an approaching figure. Once they came close enough did Valarie get a better view. An older woman with hair that is still mostly brown but with noticeable portions of it in a vibrant gray and mid-length just past her shoulder. Her attire was formal as if she was going to work an office. The former co-captain of the last American team that won the internationals. Candace Merryweather. She went up to Valarie and gave her a grin.

"You must be the captain if those gold stars on your uniform collar is anything to go by."

Valarie blushed. "That I am. My name is Valarie—"

"Woodlin," Candace finished. "Yes, I know who you are. I'm privy to all things American tankery, especially about a team that won the nationals. You guys generated a whole bunch of talk when you won."

"Considering our composition, I'm willing to bet not all the talk was positive."

"Oh yeah," Candace said slowly. "Your team is coed, isn't it?"

Valarie nodded.

"Hmm. The idea of a coed team is very controversial in the more traditional tankery circles. Can't even say its a generational thing because I am well aware of girls around your age who are rabid in keeping tankery girls only." Candace continued.

"This team has met a few girls who are like that, unfortunately."

"Ah, that is a shame to hear. Let's not dwell on this negativity and a get a move on, huh?"

"Gladly."

Valarie led Candace into the garage where the team was waiting for them. Candace was given a tour of the team's tanks. She saw all the personalizations the team have given them and was especially fond of the painted insignias. She was soon led to the T-44 where Candace got up close to it to examine it closely.

"My old team never had Russian tanks," Candace shared. "We actually made it a point not too."

"Oh? Why not?"

"All part of this patriotic drive to only use American tanks. It was the Cold War after all. In retrospect, it was rather stupid. Limit yourself to the tanks of one nation, you restrict yourself to a nation's tank doctrine. Less flexible. Ohio State's tankery team is diverse from several nations, I've made sure of that. But hey, we won all the same."

"Ah. Interesting."

Candace got on the T-44 and sat on its front hull, leaning against the gun. "Gather the team around your tank. I'll share my experiences."

Eager, Valarie went around and called the team. Within a minute, 61 people were before the T-44. Some were sitting on other tanks to get above the crowd for a better view.

"Alright," Candace began. "I'll start with the experience you all wanna know; the world finals. The schedule back then was like today with a match every month, though when the competition started was never the same. May 17th, 1975. The deserts of Namibia. We have fought and beaten eight previous teams from all over the world, and our ninth and final opponent would be the toughest of all. The Soviet Union," Candace then chuckled to herself. "I never had a match as difficult up to that point and since then. The Soviet tankery team were exceptionally trained and had the best equipment a tankery team could acquire. Though, I suppose being state-funded would definitely play a role there."

"Was there anything else that made them that good?" asked a member of a team.

Candance thought for a moment. "Recalling now, their instructor was pivotal in their performance. She has been in tankery since she was a teen and when the Soviet Union pressed their tankery athletes into war time service, she did so without complaint. Commanded a T-34 in live combat and after the war used her experience to train the next generation of Soviet athletes. Under her mentorship, the Soviet tankery team in the internationals were one hell of a powerhouse."

"How long did the match last?" asked another from the crowd.

"The match started, ah, I'd say eight in the morning and did not end till five the following morning. It was long and the imitative went back and forth repeatedly. Not until the final hour did this stalemate break and we won."

"What tanks did the Soviets field?" Valarie questioned.

Candace patted the T-44. "A whole lot of these. Out of a team of thirty tanks, ten were T-44s. The remainder being a mix of IS-2s, SU-100s, SU-152s and a handful of IS-3s. And then they had this one tank that caused us so much trouble. A very early prototype of the T-54. The people crewing that tank, whoever they were, were damn good. For our team, we had a good amount of Pershings along with Hellcats, Sherman Easy 8s, and two T28s to take on their heaviest tanks."

"So, how did you win exactly?" Ray asked her.

Candace brought her hands together and looked up toward the ceiling. "It was dark because it was in the early morning. I was in my Pershing joined by two others, another Pershing and a Hellcat. We were the last three tanks left operational so we kept extremely vigilant. It was an annihilation match and we knew that the Soviets were equally low in number. We drove without out lights as to not attract attention, navigating by moonlight which was pretty hard as it was a half moon. Then, beyond a sand dune, we saw streaks of light beam over it. We assumed it was them and sped toward. Once we were on top of the dune, however, we found that the Soviets have placed lights on the ground pointed upward. It was a trap to lure us in and we fell for it. A shot from a hidden T-44 knocked out our Hellcat. Immediately, we put our tanks in reverse and got out of sight. It was now just us two Pershings," Candace paused to noticed the team were utterly captivated. She smiled. "In that moment of adrenaline, an idea hit me. The Soviets knew we were low in tanks, but not the specific number. I grabbed an illumination grenade and set the fuse to its maximum delay. It was loaded in the grenade launcher and I fired it up high and behind the enemy to make it look like we had reinforcements coming from another direction with the hope that they would divert their attention away from us.

"You had grenade launchers back then?" a member of the team wondered aloud.

"Oh yeah, it was standard equipment much like today. Anyway, since me and the other Pershing were behind a sand dune, we had no way of knowing if my plan worked unless we went over the top. We bit the bullet and did just that. Once we were on the top of the dune we found that my plan partially work. Two of their four remaining tanks were looking in the total opposite direction. We moved quickly. A T-44 looking at us got knocked out but the other one got my Pershing friend. I took swift revenge and looked upon the last two Soviet tanks, and IS-2 and another T-44. They were turning their turrets. I sent a round to the IS-2 and reloaded, and god, was that the longest reload in my life. The T-44 trained their gun on us but we were quicker on the draw. A pull of a trigger and the title of world champions was ours."

"Wow," Valarie uttered with amazement, a sentiment shared by the team. "What an ending."

"No kidding. The United States won. And now it hasn't won another title since. No country in the Western Hemisphere has."

"Do you have any reason why that is?"

Candace sighed. "Wish I could say that some curse was placed upon the New World that put us on a huge losing streak, but that would be silly really. If I had to guess it would all stem from a variety of mundane reasons. Shifting attitudes, budgets, priorities, and a good helping of bad luck. All the while other countries got better and established themselves as supreme. Germany, France, the UK, Japan. In the past few decades, if any country won the internationals, it's most likely one of those four."

Candace got down from the T-44 and took another moment to look at it.

"That final match is a memory I wouldn't trade for the world. That is a piece of advice I want to give you all. Treasure the moments you have as you will savor them for the rest of your lives. Be it something minor or major, as long as its important to you its worth remembering. You all have this great opportunity being in the world tournament. Enjoy it. It will be unforgettable."

For the remainder of the meeting, Candace was given a more in depth view of the team's tanks and she gave more advice when it was appropriate. As the meeting near its end, she sought out Valarie and the two had a more private chat.

"How do you feel?" Candace asked her.

Valarie initially didn't know how to respond this. "Um. Okay I guess?"

"How do you feel getting this far?"

"Good," Valarie said now realizing what she meant. "Proud too."

"What about stress?"

"That too."

"Is it a lot of stress?"

"I have a few strands of gray hair."

Candace chuckled. "Wish I only had a few strands. Though, it's clear that the stress from this sport is affecting you."

"Yeah, well, I'm the captain. It's a job that inherently stressful. Someone has to do it."

"Very true. But don't let stress dominate you. Let me share with you a secret. The night before the world finals, I had a panic attack. That night, only now did it sink in that my team was in the finals and I was terrified of disappointing people. The captain of the team came into my room and hugged me tight to comfort me. She then gave me advice that I remember to this day. 'Remember this and keep it close to your heart. People only expect your best. As long as you give it, you won't disappoint anyone'."

Valarie smiled at the advice and felt it warm her immensely. "I always say to my team that the only thing that I expect is their best."

Candace place a hand on her shoulder and felt a tear in her eye. "Marigold would've loved you. Good luck Valarie. I'll be rooting for you guys."

The pair shook hands and Candace left the garage. Valarie went to her backpack and fetched her playbook. She flipped through the pages and got to the strategy for the team's next match against New Zealand. The map was studied carefully as she went over all the details. Valarie stood quietly as she read, the light from a nearby illuminated her as she did. With a pencil, she would make a minor edit here and there where she would later then close the playbook. Tucked in her arms, she leaned against her tank and took a deep breath. With all that has happened in the past month, she felt like it was forever since the last match. A thought entered her mind that made her laugh to herself.

Valarie couldn't wait to get shot at again.


	65. Mojave Rose v. Port Chalmers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniping's a good job, mate!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hello Readers!
> 
> I would like to preface this chapter to share with you all something special. A little over a year ago, on October 22nd 2019, I posted the first chapter of Dust Devils on Archive of Our Own. (With me later cross-posting to FFN and Wattpad )
> 
> Man.
> 
> It's been over a year writing this story.
> 
> Whether you've been a reader since chapter 1 first published or just stumbled upon this story the other day, I thank and cherish you all. 
> 
> Without further ado, here is the next match of the internationals! Enjoy!

_Saturday August 31st, 2013_

_Brandenburg, Germany _

Around 76 kilometers from the German capital of Berlin laid a nature park named Dahme-Heideseen. An expansive place of nearly 600 square kilometers of divine wilderness, and of which, only a small portion of it will be seen by both teams today as it has been sectioned off for today's match. Another round of the world competition was soon to begin and already was the spectator's area absolutely rife with activity. A normally empty valley now hosting thousands of people who have come to see the match live as it goes down as close as they can be allowed. It was seven o'clock in the morning and both teams were there along with their machines. Despite the early hour, not one member of the Mojave Rose team felt groggy in any sense of the word. The inherent exciting nature of a tankery match has seen to that. As before, the team were spread out among the spectator's area to enjoy their small amount of time before they had to head out. Valarie was with her crew as they walked around at a leisurely place. The girls had no place in particular to go visit, just going whatever captured their attention the most. Some cups of coffee were the first thing they enjoyed when they arrived, but coffee does not last forever.

"We still have half an hour to kill before we have to drive to the starting area," Ashley informed. "Not in the mood to browse any of those tacky gift shops."

"Well, how about the mood to eat?" Heather suggested.

"I could do that," Ashley replied. Then she turned to Valarie. "Your sister runs a food tent around here, right?"

"Yeah," Valarie confirmed. "All part of that cultural exchange that's traditional to international tankery."

"Let's go pay her a visit then."

The T-44 crew, newly motivated by their hunger, went directly to Catalina's food then that was thankfully not too far them where they were. At the tent, they could see that it was serving a sizable crowd of customers. Peaking over their heads, Valarie caught sight Madison who was overseeing the cooks and cashiers. By the look of her pleased face, Valarie could tell that things were going very well. She maneuvered through the crowd to get her attention.

"You guys are pretty popular, huh? Just like in Spain?"

"Better than Spain!" Madison corrected with a proud smile. "Word definitely spreads around when you serve exquisite steak and eggs, among other fine items on the menu. Speaking of which, you here to place an order?"

Valarie nodded. "Nothing to heavy. I'm thinking scrambled eggs."

"Hmm. A bowl of scrambled eggs mixed with sausage?"

"That'll do nicely. Four bowls please."

Despite the crowd, the T-44 crew were handed their food within a few short minutes. Valarie suspected that Madison had told the cooks to prioritize their order but she wasn't going to complain. As they ate, they were joined by Louise who was wandering about the area. Her hands were behind her back and was looking toward a stage nearby to them."

"Hey Louise, what's up?" Valarie greeted.

"Not much. Just mentally preparing for the match."

"Same here."

Louise glanced at her. "Got any idea what they'll do with that stage?"

Valarie shrugged. "Who knows. Could be anything."

A moment later, a large group of girls made their appearance heading in the direction of the stage. They were all wearing uniforms stylized after the quintessential British explorer of the Victorian age; khaki-colored shirts and pants, long brown boots that reached beyond their knees, and on the top of each of their heads the familiar pith helmet. The girls got on the stage and got organized. To Valarie, who they were was unmistakable.

"The New Zealand tankery team," Valarie remarked. "Port Chalmers."

"What are they gonna do on that stage?" Emma wondered.

Louise slowly walked forward to the stage, and excitement growing within her by the second. "I know what they're going to do. Oh man. This is gonna be so cool!"

A large crowd had gathered around the stage, their emotions a mix of curiosity and eagerness. On the stage, the Port Chalmers tankery team have arranged themselves in neat rows standing at attention. Most of the girls were of a fair complexion, thought a good amount of them were of Maori descent. Like Louise, these Maori girls sported facial tattoos as part of their facial heritage, though these tattoos were on their chins rather than all over their face, which displayed these beautiful patterns. The crowd then quieted as if they received some unheard order.

A Maori girl stood at the front of the group where she then yelled out a phrase in her native language.

_"Ka mate! Ka mate!"_

An instance later, all on the stage entered into a pose of power and intimidation. They all struck their chests in unison and with such ferocity that Valarie was convinced that those girls have just given themselves bruises. The group, sans the leader, then chanted,

_"Ka ora! Ka ora!"_

What these words that the New Zealand team were screaming to the crowd not a soul understood, but that didn't. The emotion behind their voices and how loud they were told volumes. Words that held significant meaning to the Maori people. Their physical actions, too, were as dramatic and exaggerated as their yelled chants. Their movements were splendidly choreographed, moving as one. They swayed from side to side, struck their chests and thighs, and stomped the stage repeatedly with their feet in a rhythmic fashion. Their faces were a sight to behold with their eyes bulging and tongues sticking out. All the while, they continued their chants.

_"Ka mate! Ka mate!"_ yelled the leader.

_"Ka ora! Ka ora!"_ dutifully replied the rest.

The repeated for a few short and intense minutes. The bellows from the New Zealand team was nonstop that no doubt provided entertainment to the crowd, though at the same time demanded respect for this cultural practice.

Port Chalmers soon concluded their dance, the exaggerated facial expressions and movements gone and now again standing at attention. The crowd showered them with applause as the girls walked off the stage and made their departure.

"Okay. What just happened?" Emma questioned, fairly surprised over what she had just witnessed.

"No clue," Ashley responded. "But whatever it was, it was extremely cool."

Valarie looked over to Louise, who throughout the whole performance, had a face of awe. "So, what did we just see?"

"The Haka," Louise answered. "A traditional Maori dance."

"Haka," Valarie repeated. "That's a pretty intimidating dance."

"Intimidation is the point. The Haka can be done as a way to challenge someone. With origins going all the way back to war dances, it's not surprising."

"You know quite a bit about them."

Louise had a half-grin on her face. "I guess when you're indigenous yourself, you have a greater innate interest to learn about other native peoples. From all my reading, I've learned that despite all the differences in cultures and vast distance, we all have this common struggle," she paused. Her gaze shifted toward the ground in silent contemplation. Then she twirled to face the T-44 crew with a full smile. "Well, I gotta go and get my crew together so that we're ready for go time. See ya!"

Louise left. The T-44 crew finished their breakfast and checked the time.

"Ten minutes before we have to go," Heather informed. "Should we go to our tanks now or is there anything else to see? Have to be quick though."

They looked toward Valarie.

"There is this one place," she told them. "It won't take long."

Valarie beckoned her crew to follow. She led them to a tent that was close by. It looked different from the rest, with its color a bright vibrant red. Inside this tent was a singular object stored securely in a glass case. Gold-colored ropes surrounded the case along with a few match officials tasked with keeping a vigilant eye on it. The T-44 crew approached and examined the special item.

A Pattern 1796 Light Calvary Sabre.

The grand prize for winning the world tournament. Exquisitely handcrafted with the finest silver for the bade and rare wood for the grip. It was polished and shined magnificently. Valarie laid her hands on the rope and gazed at the sabre.

"This is what everyone wants. What they desire. Winning the title is great and all..but to have something physical to represent victory is something truly special." Valarie remarked.

"Looks very pretty. I love the silver." Emma added.

"God, you can kill someone with a single stroke with that thing. A slash to their back or face and that's the end for them." Heather commented, transfixed by the prize.

Ashley cleared her throat. "Sure. Sure. Totally unrelated, but, I think it's a good idea to keep you away from sharp objects."

"Ha. Funny girl," Heather said, looking directly into Ashley's eyes. "What a comedian you are. I just can't stop laughing."

"There is no need for the sass."

Heather took a deep breath. "Oh, I'm just in a feisty mood because of our match. Which...we ought to be going now."

"Agreed," Valarie said, taking one more glance at the sabre. "I got a captain to meet."

* * *

Kilometers away from the spectator's area, just outside the set boundaries of the battlefield, two vehicles were driving fast toward a designated spot. One was the Humvee that belonged to Mojave Rose, American flag flapping in the wind on the roof. The other vehicle was a Rolls-Royce Armored Car, green in appearance and though it had a machine gun turret, it still moved with elegance that was becoming of the brand the car was associated with. In a grassy pasture, the two vehicles came to a stop a few meters away from each other. Valarie and Ray were the first to get out and stood in front of the Humvee.

"They turned a Rolls-Royce into an armored car?" Ray said with some surprise. "What country came up with a crazy idea like that?"

"The United Kingdom." Valarie answered.

"...Of course."

A moment later, the doors of the Rolls-Royce flung open and out came two girls. One was of fair skin, had brown that looked supremely brushed and flowed past her shoulders. It glossed in the sunlight. The other girl was Maori, hair long and black. The leadership of both teams got together and shook hands to start things off.

"Howdy!" Aaria Taumata, captain of the Port Chalmers tankery team, exclaimed with high energy. "A fine day to have a match. Not a cloud in the sky."

"Ah, howdy," Valarie responded after some hesitation. "Don't really say 'howdy' in California to tell you the truth."

"Oh, I know," Aaria said with a wave of her hand. "I just really like that word. Let's get introductions over with. I'm Aaria Taumata and this is my capable sister-in-arms, Quinn Huntley.

"I'm Valarie Woodlin and this is Ray Rosario. My capable, uh, brother-in-arms."

"Ah yes, you Americans are all coed. You'll get no grief from me or Quinn. Nope. Not a single negative thing."

Quinn, from the moment she got out of the car and saw Ray, couldn't get her eyes off him. She examined him closely and savored all the details. "No. Definitely no grief from me," Quinn stepped forward closer to Ray. "In fact, I think more guys should be in tankery. It would be so _fun_."

"Right?" Valarie remarked. "We got a few good guys on our team, simply the best. As dedicated as any girl."

"Hopefully in our match we'll get to see that dedication first hand. Ah, I'm sure your fellas will do a bang up job," Aaria said. Her gaze then turned toward the Humvee. "Oh! Is that the real deal? Always wanted to get up close and personal with a Humvee."

"C'mon closer then," Valarie invited. "I'll show you all the neat details!"

Valarie gave Aaria a tour of the Humvee as Ray stood off in the sidelines, patiently waiting for this captains meeting to come to an end. He was eager to return to his IS-3. Quinn studied him from a short distance away, then walked up to him.

"You probably hear this from all the girls on your team, but, ah," she blushed. "You're real handsome."

"Thank you," Ray replied with a blush in kind. "Though, not a whole lot of people on the team actually say that."

"Really?" Quinn said with exaggerated shock. She composed herself. "My, is Mojave Rose a school for the blind?"

Ray chuckled. "Ha. No. Its just not a thing that happens. Though, I guess some of the girls could be saying such things secretly."

"Well, I'm not surprised. Girls on your team take a look at you and act all stupid trying to get your attention."

He chuckled again and his blush grew redder. "I think you're overstating how, ah, wanted I guess, on the team."

Quinn scoff. "Mojave Rose must truly be a school for the blind. How can they fail to see a handsome guy like you? Wonderfully tall, hair fairly long as I see a bit of it poking out from your helmet, and skin a tantalizing light caramel color."

Ray put his hands behind his back and raised a brow. "You're flirting with me, aren't you?"

Quinn smiled. "Maybe. Maybe I'm just engaging in really friendly conversation."

"I'll just have you know that I—"

Quinn rose a finger to silence him. "No more talking. We'll get know each other better on the battlefield. I know your tank. Making it this far," she was right in front of him and drew her voice down a whisper. "I'm sure you can show a girl a _great _time."

Ray couldn't formulate a response. He got a feeling he'll get some special attention in the match akin to the team's Montana match. Yet, in this case, for the total opposite reason.

Over at the Humvee, Valarie had finished showing Aaria all the little aspects of the vehicle. The leaderships of both teams reconvened.

"I gotta say, you two are much more friendlier than the Portuguese team we fought last month. Guess it was the language barrier." Aaria complimented.

"Thanks," Valarie replied. "We're just being who we are."

"Keep being you. The world can always use more friendly people," Aaria said, then paused. She looked up to the sky for a moment. "This is random, I know, but I quite like you're national anthem. Favorite lyric is about a rocket's red glare. That begs the question," she looked directly at Valarie. "Does your rockets have a red glare?"

"...Rockets?" Valarie said quizzically. "I, uh, don't know what you mean."

"Ah, ah, ah," Aaria said with a wag of her finger. "I believe you do. Two RP-3 rockets mounted to the Cromwell on your team, one on either side of the turret. Impressive firepower and it'll bring hell on anything if it hits."

"How do you—"

"You find all sorts of interesting things when you browse the internet," Aaria told her. "Though, considering your reaction, I'm led to believe you are aware of the photos of your Cromwell with its rockets...and of your AMR 35, the new gun for your Jumbo, and a Type 97. I'm sure you two got a lot to think about."

"You got that right." Valarie said coldly

The leaderships exchanged their goodbyes and remounted their vehicles. On the way back, there was a silence in the Humvee that Ray soon broke.

"How...how do they know about all of that? I can understand them knowing about our AMR. They could've seen a recording of out Spanish match. But the rest? How?"

"I don't have a clue," Valarie said, looking straight ahead, her right hand clenched in a fist. "She said they were photos."

"So, who took them? Either someone took photos of us during our recent practices or they came from the garage."

"I don't like either scenario. Whoever took those photos, I will find out and make sure those are the last photos they'll ever take," Valarie took a breath and cracked her knuckles. "Anyway, that's later. Gotta focus on the now. We got some shooting to do."

* * *

The wind was strong. The sound of the swaying leaves of the trees filled the air. At one side of the river that divided the area of engagement was the forces of Port Chalmers, composed entirely of Allied armor. Late model Shermans, T-34s, Churchill, among others. In addition to all of that was a contingent of T-40 Soviet amphibious tanks and Sherman DDs. Strapped securely to their hulls were the team's decoy tanks, their false panzers, currently dismantled for ease of transport. Aaria looked at them from her ACIII Thunderbolt, which boasted a 25-pounder gun. She was proud of the team's own 'navy', with them proving their worth in countless previous matches. At the same time, they were also trying a new tactic with the imminent deployment of their decoys.

"They're gonna do some work," Quinn said from her IS-4, parked next to Aaria. "Wreck absolute havoc from behind enemy lines."

"That they well," Aaria said with a nod. She got on the radio. "Alright ladies, one last recap of our strategy. Our Jackson with our lovely Isla will drive like hell to the tunnel to cross it. We have a bit of an advantage here as our starting area is closer to it. The Jackson will get on the American's side of the river ASAP and delay them."

"I'll keep them pinned down so you girls can get to position all nice like." Isla added.

"Good," Aaria continued. Quinn will hold the inside of the tunnel in her tank doing what she does best; holding the line. All the while, our amphibious platoon will move north to find a suitable place to ford 'cross the river. From there, they'll attack the Americans from behind. We'll pincer them. Good copy on all that?"

Her team delivered a resounding yes. A match official standing off to the side was keeping careful attention to the time. At 8:30 on the dot, the official fired her starting pistol.

"Showtime! Let's roll!" Aaria exclaimed with immense energy.

The Port Chalmers tankery team drove headlong into the German forest, guns lock and loaded for the Americans.

~Line break

The cool morning air has utterly vanished, replaced with the hot, chocking fumes from engines of various sizes and power. The Mojave Rose tankery team were on the move, making a south-western advance to the train tracks so follow them to the tunnel that served as the only connector to both sides of the battlefield. Why go to the tracks first and not just head directly to the tunnel? Going as the crow flies would have the team driving around the dense forest, weaving around trees to avoid them. They would certainly slow down and them not traveling at their best possible speed could allow the enemy to seize the tunnel. As there was clearings on either side of the tracks, the team will use them as roads.

Mojave Rose were organized in the usual fashion, a v-formation, with a notable exception. The light tanks of the team drove ahead acting as a screening force. 500 meters away from the rest of the team, Cassidy was out of the hatch and heavily scrutinizing the terrain ahead.

"Ha. French tank deep in Germany," Cassidy said to herself. She tapped the roof of the turret. "This must feel good for you little buddy."

"Screening force," Valarie said over the radio. "Got eyes on anything?"

"We see...trees, more trees, and a possible sighting of a squirrel. Will inform you of any new developments." Cassidy said with heavy sarcasm.

"Noted, _Skink_. Remain vigilant."

"Oh, yes ma'am," Cassidy reported for an exaggerated salute that no one saw. "Our eyes are razor sharp."

For around twenty minutes, they drove through the forest occasionally blessed by open fields where they could open up the throttle. Valarie was constantly checking the map on her tablet to have an everpresent awareness of the team's progress. The blue blips on the screen inched closer to their destination."

"We're coming up to the tracks now," she informed over the radio. "When we get there, we'll stop for a moment."

They came out of the forest not long after and the team were now before the tracks in question. The metal was rusted and the wood half rotted. Nature was in the process of reclaiming this man-made invention as the gravel could scarcely be seen as it was nearly covered with overgrowth.

"Hold old is this track?" Natalie wondered.

"Pre-war." Valarie determined.

"Pre...what war?" Aubrey commented. "By the looks of it, the tracks look like they were built before war was even a thing."

"Interesting you say that. People have found evidence of warfare since prehistoric times," Ray said in lecturing mood. "Nearly 15,000 wars have been waged since 3500 BCE. Of course, not every war is cataloged in the historical record. A war between tribes of _homo sapiens_ and _neanderthal_s sure has happened eons—"

"We're not in a classroom, _Juniper_," Valarie reminded. "Save it for next time."

"Oh...alright."

"Man. I was getting hooked there." Aubrey said with some disappointment

Valarie looked down the tracks that led to the tunnel. A moment of contemplation later, she dispensed orders.

"_Sierra_, move to this designated position on the map," she said as she tapped on her tablet. "Everyone else, drive along the left of the tracks. Move fast. We _have_ to reach that tunnel before the enemy."

The team dutifully and without hesitation complied with her orders. The SU-14 split off from the main force and drove to the position Valarie had selected for them, a grove of trees that provided both cover and concealment. The remaining tanks pressed on with the tracks as their guide. A few kilometers were drive without anything noteworthy occurring. This sparked hope within Valarie. The calm of the forest told the team that Port Chalmers has yet to cross the tunnel. Yet, the first seeds of doubt were about to be planted. A faint noise in the distance could heard by the commanders who were out of their hatches. It was something mechanical for sure, perhaps related to an engine. But that was all the team could gather.

"What the hell can be that loud?" Robin remarked, her head high in the skin.

"Some sort of super-heavy tank?" Mia guessed. "Better not be. One experience is enough."

"I really don't like the sound of that." Sage added.

Valarie remained quiet, her ears trained trained on this sound. "So faint, it has to be a few klicks away," she reasoned. "But it can't be an engine. No engine is that powerful to be heard kilometers away. Especially with all these trees acting as sound barriers."

The sound grew even more faint, then stopped all together.

"It's gone," Valarie said. "Hmm."

"Whatever it is, we'll find out soon." Ray commented.

The team drove for another few minutes when the terrain changed. The trees went away and in their place was an expansive grass pasture with some hills and bushes. Another mundane crossing over open ground.

Mundane until it wasn't.

Suddenly, a piercing whistle was heard by all and a moment later the ground next to the VK was cratered, pieces of the earth showering upon the German prototype. Quickly, Valarie turned to the direction where the shot came from.

"All turrets traverse right!" she ordered. "Search for the hostile tank that took a shot at us!"

Those with turrets scanned the area beyond the right of the tracks. Various pairs of eyes feverishly looked for anything that remotely resembled a tank.

"I don't see anything out there!" Marielle reported."

"Same here, nothing!" Aurora shared.

"They must be well-hidden and were waiting for us." Valarie remarked, annoyed.

Out of her hatch and with binoculars, Haley was going from bush to spot anything out of the ordinary. On one bush she lingered, suspicious. Then, she saw the flash of a muzzle.

"Incoming fire!"

The shot from the unknown assailant sped across the land and nicked the rear tracks of the SU-100. Pieces of metal were flung about. The tank destroyer started to veer to the right.

"Ah! What's going on!?" Nora demanded.

"Tracks hit! Lana replied. "I can't turn left!"

"Stop the tank! We'll just go in circles otherwise," Nora ordered. "_Oasis_! Our tracks got struck! We can't move!"

Valarie immediately looked behind her and saw the SU-100 dead in the water. She glanced forward and saw a large depression in the ground that would make for excellent cover. A plan was formed.

"_Juniper_, push _Ocotillo _forward. We're all gonna take cover in that depression. Everyone else, grenade launchers! Pop—" A shot landed nearby, exploding. "Pop smoke!"

Their immediate surroundings became shrouded in a thick cloud of smoke. The IS-3 carefully drove up to the rear of the SU-100 and pushed the machine forward. Two more shots from their ambusher were sent into the smoke but only the ground suffered. Once the smoke cleared, Mojave Rose was no where to be seen.

In their hidden spot, the M36 Jackson remained still. Isla had her face against the gun sight, then, reclined back and let out a breath.

"You managed to score a hit on one of them," Sienna said, her commander. "But not a knock out."

Isla turned to look at her. "We're what? 2500 meters away more or less? I got lucky to land a shot near 'em. Their SU-100 will need to repair."

"Hmm," Sienna hummed. She poked out of her hatch and with her binoculars searched the tracks. "There must be some depression over there where they're taking cover in."

"Yup. They'll have to peak out sooner or later and once they do I can nail them. But I need to be closer."

"Roger, we'll move up. Gotta do so anyway. Can't allow their artillery to drop a bomb on us."

On the other side of the tracks, the Mojave Rose team were, for now, safe from being shot at but their progress has completely halted. The SU-100 crew immediately set out to repair their tracks. As they did, the rest of the team remained idle

"God, we cannot afford to delay," Valarie moaned. "But we can't leave _Ocotillo_ behind.

"And we can't have this enemy tank shooting at us all the way to the tunnel," Ray chimed in. "We'll suffer casualties for sure that way."

As Valarie thought about their next course of action, she felt a tap on her thigh from Emma.

"Do you think it's that girl we heard from the radio?" Emma asked. "Isla Campbell?"

"Could be," Valarie remarked. "A Jackson would fit the description. Fast enough to get over here and those shots landed real close to us."

"So, how do we, ah, deal with this?" Ashley questioned.

"Shoot back," Valarie answered plainly. She readied her microphone. "_Jackalope_, peak over the ridge and look for the enemy. Your tough turret armor will withstand the enemy's fire."

"Copy," Louise acknowledged. "We're on it."

The Super Pershing drove slowly on the slope of the embankment, only allowing its turret to be the thing that is exposed. Thanks to its good gun depression, the Super Pershing could train its gun on target, if it could find one to begin with. Louise used her vision device to look for the enemy but they were too well hidden.

And they weren't.

Seemingly out of thing air a round hit them. It harshly ricocheted off the turret front, the crew within shuddering and gritting their teeth.

"Good God!" Louise exclaimed, her ears ringing.

"They can't knock us out, but damn, can they hit us!" remarked their loader Elise.

"_Jackalope_, do you have visual on the enemy?" Valarie asked them.

Louise popped out of her hatch and got to searching. "...No. Nothing! They must be repositioning the moment they pull the trigger."

Valarie sighed. "Understood."

A few meters away, Mia was starting to feel impatient. A fast tank like the Stuart wasn't meant to remain still for this long. Over the radio, she presented Valarie her proposition.

"_Oasis_, got an idea here. I pop smoke and then speed away toward the tunnel. Whoever is shooting at us will take a shot at me, and _Jackalope_ can use that as a chance to take them out."

"Hmm," pondered Valarie. "Maybe if both you and _Mirage_ make a go for it, it'll increase your chances of success. Race to the tunnel and report your findings. But don't engage with anyone."

"I'm game!" Aurora said eagerly! "Better than just sitting here."

"Alright. _Nomad._ _Mirage_. Go when ready." Valarie said to them.

The Stuart and Puma got next to each other and prepared for their made dash. After physical and mental preparations, the smoke grenade launchers on their turrets were fired, unleashing a cloud of smoke in front of them. They waited a moment for the smoke to spread and thicken, then, they went for it. Out of the depression, the light tank and armored car had their throttles hammered as they raced toward the rail tunnel. A distant muzzle flash was the response to this action. The round disappeared into the smoke and instead of hearing the sound of the the ground being pummeled, there was an explosion that corresponded with the violent clash of metal.

"_Nomad_? _Mirage_?" Valarie raised over the radio.

"I'm here and moving fast!" Aurora reported. "I don't see _Nomad _following though."

The cloud of concealment was banished away by a strong gust of wind, revealing the Stuart, its right sand mangled by a heavy hit and white flag on its turret.

"Son of a bitch!" Valarie cursed. "They got _Nomad_ through the damn smoke!"

"That's gotta be Isla," Emma determined. "Her intuition as a gunner is superb."

"Lucky us."

At the Super Pershing, Louise has witnessed the whole ordeal go down and caught sight of the bush that the enemy had used. "Eight o'clock. 1500 meters. Send a round in that bush!"

Jocelyn at the gun took aim at the target and made out the range. Without delay, the Super Pershing fired. Louise observed the fall of shot and to her dismay saw a spray of grassy dirt erupt into the air.

"Damn...nothing. Again." Louise said with a sigh.

A distance away from the Mojave Rose team, the M26 Jackson has pulled back and broke line of sight from the Americans. They went to the nearby forest, their concealment aided by their camouflage net draped on top of them. Isla felt proud. Real proud. The rest of the Jackson's crew shared in her sentiments.

"Through. The. Smoke," Sienna said with awe. "Those Americans know who they're messing with! Our crackshot sniper!"

"Is it a gunner's intuition? Or a woman's intuition? I'd say its both." Isla remarked with a laugh.

"We got them pinned down," Sienna continued. "We pick them off one by one and that'll be a good day's hunting."

"Yes...but our job right now isn't to get them all. Just to delay and we're doing that well. Though their Puma did manage to break through."

"Bah, what can an armored car do?" Sienna said dismissively. "Chances are when that car reaches the tunnel, they'll find it quite occupied," A radio message filled Sienna's ear, who listened closely. "Speak of the devil. We've been ordered to disengage and head to a fall back position. Await next phase of operations.

Isla clapped her hands. "Oh, I'm about to do some real work soon."

* * *

Kilometers away from the action, a contingent of Port Chalmers were at the shore of the river up north. They had spent some time looking for a suitable launching off point and they've found it for this section of the river was calm and there was a nice shore to receive them on the other side. The amphibious platoon were ready to execute the next stage of the New Zealand's team strategy.

"Once we cross the river, we are to deploy our decoys are the areas marked on our maps," one of the Sherman DD commanders reminded. "Once that is done, we are to split. The T-40s will begin their search for the American's artillery while the rest will head for the tunnel. Let's go swimming!"

The Sherman DDs had flotation screens attached to their hulls along with two propellers at their rear. The crews erected the screens, which covered the Shermans totally. The T-40s were simpler. Their hulls were designed to be buoyant from its inception. All the tanks drove onto the river and swam across at a slow but steady speed. Their tracks soon treaded on the opposing shore, and like that, Port Chalmers had a beachhead on Mojave Rose's side of the battlefield. The Americans were now flanked.

* * *

The SU-100 crew moved with haste. The sounds of tools at work were heard by the team, then ceased. They had hammered in the last pin.

"Track repaired, we're back in business!" Nora exclaimed.

Her crew scrambled back into their vehicle. With some good news, Valarie now considered the team's next move."

"We still don't know if that sniper is out there," Valarie remarked. She scratched her chin. "But it has been quiet for a while. We're taking a risk. Everyone will move out together, guns aimed in the direction of the sniper. The tunnel is still our destination. Move out!"

The Mojave Rose team drove out of the depression and braced for incoming fire that didn't arrive. They remained tense and vigilant but as the seconds ticked by, they relaxed. The sniper was gone. Where they went no one cared. They were delighted and put pedal to the metal to make up for lost time. As they drove fast, Valarie radioed the Puma for any news.

"_Mirage_, got anything?"

The Puma, thanks to its quick nature, has arrived at the tunnel. Though, to be on the safe side, they were taking cover in the forest.

"We see the tunnel entrance and no one is here." Aurora shared.

"Have you checked what's inside the tunnel?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"...We're scared."

"Uh...got it. Hold your position. We'll be arriving soon."

A half hour of driving elapsed and the team finally had the tunnel in view. Its interior was covered in darkness, of course, giving off a forbidding atmosphere. Valarie instructed the team to take up scattered positions around the tunnel, their guns trained on the entrance.

"Now what?" Robin asked.

"We learn what's inside and go from there," Valarie said. She looked at the IS-3. "_Juniper_, please enter the tunnel and give it a thorough inspection."

"Oh, geez, okay," Ray responded. "We'll move cautiously."

The IS-3 drove onto the tracks and made its way into the tunnel. The heavy tank moved slowly as it got deeper, the sound of its engine echoing throughout. After a bit of reluctance, Ray asked Jeremy to turn on the headlight for illumination. The tunnel walls suffered from decades of neglect. Here and there were sizable cracks, with some portions flat out missing pieces of concrete. The smell in the air was also suspect. An odd dampness odor that wasn't sickly though neither pleasant.

"So far so good," Ray noted. They rounded a bend and his mood completely changed. "Oh. Christ."

They weren't alone as it turns out. Another piece of Soviet heavy armor was in there with them, bathed in their lights. The commander of this tank was out of her hatch, arms crossed, and had a smile on her. As she was expecting them. A girl that Ray was quite familiar with.

"Why hello there," Quinn greeted. "Was hoping you'd be the one that be sent in here first. Don't bother shooting. Neither of our guns can penetrate our respective frontal armor. Plus, the smoke and the harsh echo of the blast will be annoying."

"Alright..." Ray said slowly. "I'm going to hazard a guess and say you've been tasked to hold the tunnel in your...IS-looking tank."

"An IS-4," Quinn said with pride. "A fine piece of kit if I say so myself. But man, those engine cooling fans are loud as hell. You can hear them from the damn moon. That's why the engine is off. It's loud outside, but it's another level of awful when that noise bounces off these tunnel walls."

"So it was you that we heard earlier," Ray said to her. "We heard something in the distance on our way here."

"Yup. Can't sneak up on anything with this thing. But it doesn't need to be sneaky. It needs to hold the line, take the punishment, and dish it out!"

"Hold the line?" Ray repeated. "See, that's a problem. You see, I would like my team and I to cross the tunnel."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to comply with your request. Even for a handsome guy like you."

Ray nodded to himself, thinking. Then, he took off his helmet, revealing his hair that was long enough to cover his hears and hang over his eyes. He ran her fingers through them to get it neat. Ray got a plan. Whether it was a good one was another matter. He was going to try and smooth talk his way to the other side. "Oh, sweetheart, can't we work something out?"

Quinn looked right at Ray and got all flustered. "Um...ah...man, it's getting hot in here. Aha...maybe we can work something out. My crew can keep a secret. What about yours?"

"I'm sure they can. Though, give me a moment to chat with them."

"Sure thing. Don't keep me waiting too long."

Ray nodded and went into the turret. Inside, Ryan and Cesar looked at him with bewildered faces.

"What...what are you going to do?" Ryan inquired.

"Are you going to cheat on Natalie?" Cesar asked more bluntly.

"Absolutely not. No. Never," Ray proclaimed. "I'm going to butter up that girl, make her all bubbly and easy going so that she'll just let us pass. I'm not going to kiss her or anything else beyond that.

"So...no third base?" Ryan questioned.

"Are you really asking that?"

"I'm just making sure. Hey, on a related note, you made it to third base with Natalie?"

Hearing that, Ray couldn't not stifle a blush. That told his crew everything.

"No need to say more Ray," Cesar said, patting his back. "Though, doing this, I'm not sure Natalie would like it."

"We won't tell her. Keep it all low-key."

The radio came alive.

"_Juniper,_ what's your status? Is the tunnel clear of the enemy?" Valarie inquired.

"There's a blockage in the tunnel. We're working on it. I'll give an update soon."

"Hmm. Alright. Stay safe."

Ray popped out of is hatch and saw Quinn checking herself out on a personal mirror to get her hair just right. Upon seeing him, she put it away and gave him a warm smile.

"Shall we continue our negotiations?" Ray said to her.

Quinn hopped off her tank and climbed aboard Ray's. She sat on the turret right by him. "Yes please. But, the kind of negotiations I like don't involve words."

She leaned in toward Ray who immediately backed off.

"Huh?"

"Hold on now, darling. Let's not move too fast here. I want to enjoy our time together. Savor each last moment."

Quinn chuckled. "Oh you love to tease a girl, don't you?"

"One of my most favorite things."

The two co-captains continued to flirt with one another, exchanging all sorts of sweet words and making each other blush. Though only Quinn was flirting with the intention all of this leading to something more. For Ray, it was just a means to an end for the benefit of the team. Still, he had his fun in all this. However, he neglected something. His radio headset was live. Every word the two were saying was broadcasted to the rest the Mojave Rose team and they had no idea. Outside the tunnel, they reacted to what was going down.

"Well, um," Valarie said, clearing her throat. "Interesting blockage in the tunnel."

"Now this is an unusual tactic," Paige remarked. "Flirting with the enemy. Let's see if it pays off."

"God help him if this isn't some plan of his." Cassidy added.

The commanders who were out of their hatches looked to the Jagdpanzer where Natalie was poking out. She remained still, silent, and paying full attention to the conversation.

"I really hope you know what you're doing Ray," Valarie said quietly to herself. She glanced to Natalie. "Because if not...you're going to be torn apart."

As they waited, suddenly, from their rear, the team heard the snapping of a tree, Valarie turned around instantly toward the source of the noise, her mind now entirely elsewhere. It quickly dawned on her what was to fall upon the team.

"We've been outflanked!" she exclaimed. "All tanks about face and prepare to defend your positions!"

The team had their front armor facing toward the armor approaching enemy. The four Sherman DDs have arrived and the two sides instantly opened fire on the other. In the tunnel, the echo of cannon fire was heard by the tanks within.

"Looks like things are heating up out there where it should be heating up in here." Quinn said with a wink.

"Yeah..." Ray said, looking behind him. All the flirting got him somewhere. But it was to a place that he refused to tread. Quinn wanted something from him that he just could not give. That something he would only give for the girl he truly loved. "Alright look, I have to tell you. I have a girlfriend."

Quinn was taken aback over this revelation. "W-what? The way you were acting this whole time, I thought you were single. Oh my god..."

"I'm sorry. I would've told you earlier during the meeting of our team's leadership but you cut me off. But I shouldn't have led you on. It was a scummy move."

"I...I was so excited, you know?" Quinn told him with a crestfallen voice. "To meet a guy who did tankery and eventually date him. That is just the coolest thing to me. Back in New Zealand, no guy does tankery. None of 'em. But then, I hear of you Americans and learn that you're coed and, god, I was so excited to meet you guys. I never had a boyfriend, you know. Sixteen and never dated. Can you believe that? I thought that...maybe...by meeting you Americans I could have my chance. But that won't be happening."

"...I'm sorry. You're a great girl, honest, but I'm already committed to a relationship to a girl who is just as amazing, kind, dedicated, and passionate. I could list all the things I love about her but the internationals would long be over."

Quinn looked down for a moment. Ray could make out a tear strolling down her cheek.

"She's real lucky to have a guy like you." she said softly.

"I'm the lucky one here," Ray told her. "She hated me at first, but either through the grace of god or luck of the drawl, she came around to me. Her confession of her love will always stick with me. We got lost in a forest and—"

The cannon fire outside intensified. Over the radio, Ray could hear the frenzied conversation of his team as they defended themselves.

"I have to go help them," Ray said to Quinn. "They'll need a big gun like this to back them up."

Quinn rubbed her eyes. "I understand. Good luck."

Ray was surprised by that. "Oh? Good luck? You want me to beat your team?"

She laughed. "Not necessarily. I just want to wish you well. Also...would it be too much to ask for a hug?"

Ray reached out and wrapped his arms around her. For the several seconds they were in an embrace, Quinn was on cloud nine. A simple hug was just what she needed. She hopped of the IS-3 and returned to her own tank.

"Goodbye!" she said with a wave.

"For now," Ray told her. "I'll be back real soon."

The IS-3, under his guidance, started to reverse its way out of the tunnel. Back outside, the Mojave Rose team were holding their own against the Shermans, though the Puma was struck and knocked out during the initial volleys. The Shermans used the forest to their advantage, using the many trees, rocks, and collapsed logs as cover from returning fire. In addition to that, they were retreating and taking up new positions to keep Mojave Rose guessing. Though that wasn't all. The Jackson has joined the fray and took up a position around 1000 meters away. Unseen, Isla peered through the gunsight for the 90mm gun and saw the tanks of Mojave Rose fighting. She had the best problem a gunner can have; a target rich environment. Yet, the match could be won with a single shot.

"Where are you..." Isla said to herself. She trained the gun first on the ACIV, then the VK, then on the T-44. But none was the specific tank she was looking for. "I got no eyes on their flag tank."

"One of their tanks went into the tunnel. That could their flag tank." Sienna suggested.

Seconds later, the IS-3 reversed out of the tunnel. It immediately turned around to have its pike armor facing Port Chalmers. No flag was on its turret.

"Nope not those boys," Isla said. "None of the tanks here are the American's flag tank."

"Then that means..." Sienna said, then stopped. She got on the radio. "Aaria! Their flag tank is their artillery!

From the other side of the tunnel, Aaria heard the message loud and clear.

"Understood. The T-40s are already on the hunt for their artillery. Do what damage you can to the rest of the Americans."

"Copy that!"

Aaria adjusted her radio. "Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"Remain where you are. Can't have the Americans use the tunnel as cover. Hey, did any of them make a move in there?"

"No. It's all quiet in here," Quinn shared. "We'll hold our ground. We always do."

The firefight at the tunnel entrance was fierce and casualties for Port Chalmers were beginning to mount. The Sherman DDs only had short 75mm guns so they were largely ineffective against the more heavily armored tanks of Mojave Rose. Tanks they could knock out, such as the AMR and Type 97 were using friendlies as cover. A shot from the Panther II to a Sherman's turret front knocked it out, and a sabot round from the ACIV immobilized another right in the center of its front hull.

The Jackson from its spot sought out a target. From her sight, Isla spotted the Cromwell, and good timing too, as in that moment it let loose its rockets toward one of the Sherman DDs. They fell short but their explosions were brutal and deafening. She hated that. Truly, hated that sensation. Another explosion was heard, one even larger. It was from the SU-14, their far off artillery. Mojave Rose were calling in fire support. Isla brought the gun to bear on the Cromwell and fired it a shot. The side of its turret got slammed and moved no longer.

"Gotcha, you rocket-lobbin' wankers. Another shell!"

The gun was reloaded and Isle searched for her next target. She came upon the SU-100. Whose gun was aimed right at them."

"Reverse...ReverseReverseReverse!"

The Jackson made its hasty retreat just when the SU-100 fired its shot, barely missing them.

"That's right, you better run!" Nora exclaimed.

"Hey, they're all retreating!" Paige informed.

The two remaining Sherman DDs slinked away and the area become silent thereafter. Mojave Rose took this moment to catch their breath and inspect their vehicles. Valarie got out of her hatch and took a look at her tank. There were some impact points from the Shermans, but nothing serious. The IS-3 parked right next to her.

"What's our status?" Ray asked her.

"_Mirage_ and _Yucca_ are down. With _Nomad_, that's three tanks down." Valarie shared.

"Got it. What's next?"

"Well, we still need to control the tunnel. You did anything about that...uh...blockage?"

"It's an IS-4. And no, couldn't do anything about it. Can't penetrate its armor and neither could they. We just stared each other down until the fighting got started."

"IS-4? Oh! That's gotta be what we heard earlier! Those—"

"Engine fans."

"Right! Hmm," Valarie pondered. "We can't have the enemy behind us so we have to finish them off before we move on to the tunnel. Though...I do wonder why they made a hasty retreat."

Ray took a look at the team's tanks. "All the the team's tanks are here, except for _Sierra_. And _Sierra_ is our..."

"...Flag tank." Valarie finished with a gasp. "Ray. You, _Jackalope_, and the tank destroyers will remain here to maintain control of the tunnel entrance. Everyone else will be with me to hunt down the Kiwis on our side of the river."

"Roger that."

"Oh, and one more thing. You had a hot mike."

"What? Oh...oh shit."

"I'll leave you to it."

With that, the T-44 set off with the VK, ACIV, Jumbo, Panther II, Type 97, and AMR in pursuit of Port Chalmers. As they drove off into the distance, Ray looked anxiously toward the Jagdpanzer IV. Its hatches were shut. He nervously tugged on his uniform.

"Please Natalie...I hope to god you heard _all_ that I said."

He hopped out of his tank and started to walk over to the Jagdpanzer when one of its hatches opened, revealing Natalie. Her face was plain which told Ray nothing about how she really felt. She pointed towards the nearby tree and gestured to go there. He complied and went behind the tree where he was out of sight of the team. Ray didn't have to wait long before Natalie joined him.

"I can explain everything, just hear me out—"

Ray began to explain but before he could utter another word he was hugged by her and held tight. He was surprised and intensely relieved.

"I already heard your explanation," Natalie said, voice muffled as her face was pressed against his chest. "I heard everything that you said."

"Oh thank god," Ray said with a breath. "You heard it all even during a firefight?"

"It took a lot of concentration to hear you talk to that girl in the tunnel when shells explode around you. But I managed. I gotta tell you, at first, I was furious. I really thought you were...cheating on me."

"I would never." Ray said. He took of her helmet and brought a hand to caress her hair. "I'd never do anything that would hurt you."

"I know. It's just that," she stopped to take a deep breath. "I've been cheated on before in my last relationship. I thought it was happening again."

The couple gazed into the other's where they then kissed each other in warm passion. When they broke the kiss, they smiled at each other.

"Shall I walk you back your tank?" Ray asked, teasingly.

Natalie locked her arm with his, taking up his offer. "I'd really like that."

* * *

Where they were, it was nice and quiet. Too quiet in fact. The tranquility of the area the SU-14 was positioned has brought down the vigilance of the crew. The wind rustled the leaves in a soothing melody and the birds occassionally chirped their tunes that added on to the calm. Them letting their guard down was not without reason. Being artillery meant by nature they were away from the heat of the action, and what more, with how the battlefield was configured meant, in their mind, that they were as safe as ever.

"Why aren't we the flag tank every time?" Amber wondered.

"Yeah," her sister Gwen chimed in. "We're always far from everyone."

"But if we are the flag tank every time, the teams we go against will know that and hunt for us the moment a match starts." Raven, Amber's third sister said.

"We're artillery," Abby, Amber's fourth sister reminded. "We're going to be hunted no matter what."

"True..." Amber remarked. She looked to Jacqueline. "Hey, we got any fire missions or what?"

"Huh?" Jacqueline muttered. She rubbed her eyes. "Sorry I dozed off a little there."

"That's okay. It's not like you're the commander or anything."

Jacqueline glared at her. "Hey, it's fine. There is no way in hell we're gonna get ambushed. The tunnel is the only way the enemy can come to our side and the rest of the team is already there. They have to fight through them to get to us."

A voice came over the radio. "_Sierra_, the enemy has flanked and made it to our side. They are hunting for you. Stay put and improve your concealment."

Once Valarie's voice went away, Jacqueline saw all the eyes of her crew on her.

"Ha..." she laughed nervously. She then adjusted her uniform. "So are you just gonna look or me or are we gonna get to work?"

Not in the particular mood to get shot at, the SU-14 crew got out of their vehicle and proceeded to better camouflage their machine. Amber and Gwen retrieved the camouflage net from its storage container on the outside of the vehicle and strapped it on. Raven and Abby sought out weak tree branches and bushes to pull out to apply them on the SU. The last remaining members, Jacqueline and Lana were using their shovels to dump clumps of dirt on the exposed portions of metal. With their incredibly hasty work done, they piled back in their machine and waited.

"We gotta be quiet now," Jacqueline told them. "Listen for engine noises."

The SU-14 lacked something that the rest of the team possessed; vision devices for the commander. If Jacqueline wanted to see something outside she had two options; One was to rely on Lana, the driver, and the two gunners, Amber and Gwen, for they had vision devices of their own. The other option was to get out of her hatch. But the latter wasn't an attractive option right now when the current priority is to remain hidden.

The artillery crew waited with the tension in the air steadily growing. Every little sound heard outside could potentially be the enemy which added to their anxiety. When the distant rumblings of engines were heard, they all froze. Jacqueline checked her tablet and saw that the blue blips that represented the team were not close enough to be the engine sounds they were now hearing.

"Alright," she said slowly and quietly. "We're gonna find out if what we did is enough."

A panic was beginning to spread through her crew.

"I-If they find us, they'll knock out," Raven stuttered out. "And that's it. We're out of the tournament!"

"Fuck man, being the flag tank is too much pressure!" Gwen cried out

"You guys calm down!" Jacqueline exclaimed

Distant cannon fire erupted followed by a flurry of machine gun bursts.

"Oh god! We've been spotted! It's all over!" Amber wailed.

"No, wait!" Jacqueline said. "That gun fire sounds farther away. It's not from the enemy."

The engine sounds they heard then started to become faint as they changed direction. About a kilometer away, the segment of the Mojave Rose team that set out to find the enemy have fired a volley into the air in a bid to attract Port Chalmers and it has worked. The tanks that potentially could have stumbled upon and brought an end to the SU-14, and in turn put a stop to Mojave Rose's ambitions for the internationals, had now turned around and drove at full speed toward the cannon fire. The artillery crew finally breathed

The rest of the team a kilometer away were driving headlong to come to the aid of their friends and with their shooting, has now made their presence known. The T-44 formed the tip of this echelon. Valarie's mind worked hard to guess what kind of tanks could they expect to meet.

"We fought of Sherman DDs, so they do have amphibious tanks." Valarie thought aloud.

"Called it!" Cassidy shouted over the radio.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. You win," Valarie responded. "Now, there has to be more. What other tanks can be amphibious and legal in tankery. Hmm..."

She reached for a tank reference book and flipped through the pages, humming as she read. Valarie wouldn't be reading for long when a voice over the radio seized her attention.

"Enemy spotted!" Marielle reported. "It's a small tank and it has its side to us."

They stopped and Valarie popped out of her hatch. She trained her binoculars on the spotted tank and got confused.

"That's a CV-33. That's not amphibious! How did it get over here?"

"Who knows," Marielle remarked. "But what I do know is that it's a target. Fire!"

The VK sent a shot to the CV. The round hit and exploded, shattering the tank into pieces. The team watched, stunned over the destruction that just happened. For Valarie, her confusion mounted.

"What the hell? Get me closer to that 'CV'."

The T-44 drove toward the spot of the destroyed tank. She got out of the T-44, knelt down, and grabbed a piece of the remains. She felt the texture of the piece in her hand.

"This isn't metal. It's wood," she said as she analyzed them. "It was a decoy."

She remounted her tank and her crew noted her excitement.

"Why do you look so happy over the decoys?" Emma asked her.

"Because I'm fangirling here!" she answered with a smile. "I seen this before! In the Japanese nationals there match with a school that also used decoys. My god this is so cool! Port Chalmers have taken it too another level. Using full wooden mock-ups."

"From far away, they look like the real deal," Heather noted. "What's the process to deal with them?"

Valarie got on the radio. "Be aware of fake wooden tanks," she informed. "To be on the safe side, shoot any tank you see. Real or fake."

They pressed on for their hunt of the enemy. Every so often, they would come across another one of Port Chalmers' decoys where one of the tanks would shoot to destroy them. The decoys were mostly based upon T-40s but tankettes were used as well, all expertly constructed to be as real looking as possible. One member of the team, though, had a poor opinion on them. Cassidy, out of her hatch, spotted another one of the decoys and felt compelled to make a comment.

"Man, I can close one eye and still tell that's fake," she noted. Her binoculars were on them. "Nathan, you can make a better looking tank outta paper mache."

"Just shoot it already. Valarie told us to shoot the fake ones too." Nathan reminded her.

"Hey, you're not the commander. I call the shots! literally!" Cassidy resumed her attention on the decoy and saw that its gun was rotating and now aimed right at them. She let out sigh. "Well. That's a strike out."

The 'decoy' was in truth one of the T-40s that had found them. A round from its 20mm gun was sent right to the AMR and the little tank sputtered to a stop. Before the rest of the team could retaliate, it had already scurried away.

"T-40s, hmm?" Valarie mused. "That can definitely cross a river. Their entire team can't be fully composed of amphibious tanks so there can't be that many of them in our vicinity."

"Oh god, there is still the rest of their team to deal with on the other side of the river." Robin whined.

"This is going to be a long day. It's about to be noon." Paige added.

"Alright guys, let's have some positive energy here," Valarie told them. "When that supply drop comes, we'll make it a goal to secure it. Those things have good stuff in there that will surely elevate out moods. Now, let's focus on the task at hand."

With something to look forward too, the team, their spirits rejuvenated, carried out their tasks. The remaining tanks of Port Chalmer's amphibious platoon have joined together to form one unit. Though they were at the disadvantage. When it comes to amphibious tanks, by design, they don't have the biggest guns nor the thickest armor. The amphibious tank commanders took stock of their situation and came to the conclusion that amassing their forces together was their best and only option together. With their weaker firepower, they would eventually lose against Mojave Rose so they elected the upcoming fight as hard as possible for the Americans so that they will have to work diligently to get them. This would not only serve to inflict more damage on Mojave Rose, but to also give their Jackson ample time needed to carry out its own task for the Jackson was not going to join them but instead headed to the tunnel.

The T-44 and the group they were leading found themselves in a field where a hill was presented. On this hill were the tanks they were looking for. They stood upon it in an almost defiant nature, their guns pointed toward the direction of Mojave Rose. The T-44 came to a halt and the rest of the tanks followed suit. The two opposing teams stared each other down. Valarie examined the enemy carefully, their turrets unmoving.

"_Sierra_," she said over the radio. "Fire mission."

The coordinates were relayed and the SU-14 crew got to work figuring out the range and angle of shot. Its gun elevated in the air and the hull was travsered to get pointed in the right direction. All the calculations were done and triple checked. A moment later, the air exploded as an HE shell was now out for delivery. Jacqueline kept a close eye to her stopwatch. Two and a half seconds for shell travel time.

Over at the hill, Valarie waited for the shot and it landed with a thunderous impact. But it fell too far behind the enemy who were just dusted with pieces of the ground.

"No effect on target," Valarie relayed. "Overshot."

"Ugh. Copy. Correcting" Jacqueline replied.

"Hold on," Valarie said. She spotted the enemy on the hill moving forward to get their gun to bear and let loosed a barrage of there own. The ground below was peppered with shot. "I'll get back to you!"

The T-40s, though only armed with a weak caliber gun, quickly grew annoying for Mojave Rose. Their 20mm guns were autocannons, fed by an 11-round belt of ammuntion. They fired their rounds in a quick succession, paused to reload, and resumed firing, all within seconds. The only tank that they could even hope to knock out was the Type 97, but Valarie was acutely aware of this and situated her own tank in front of it to protect them. The Sherman DDs held their fire as they looked for a suitable target and soon their guns were aimed at the ACIV.

"You wanna shot us, huh?" Robin said as if she was insulted. "We got sabot with your name on it!"

The Sentinel took aim on one of the Shermans and fired, its shot sailing over its target.

"What the hell? How did you miss?"

"Sorry!" Alexa said. "I'm still getting used to the velocity of the ammo. I'm compensating for range too much!"

"Ah, whatever. Reload!"

Mojave Rose proceeded to climb upon the hill and returned fire where they could. A shot from the T-44 slammed into one of the T-40s, the light tank bucked back a few feet over the intensity of the impact. When they were halfway up, the tanks on the top made a sudden charge down the hill that surprised them in a desperate gambit to sow confusion among their ranks. The speedy T-40s moved quick enough to slip past Mojave Rose, still shooting as they did, to get to the bottom of the hill. The Sherman DDs weren't as fortunate. It's fatter sibling, the Jumbo, reacted fast enough to knock one of them out, followed by action from the VK that finished off the other. Now, their attention turned to the T-40s.

Aubrey in the Type 97 saw the T-40s behind the team's position. They were still moving away from them as if they were retreating. With the new crew wanting to play their part in the match, they moved to engage.

"Let's finally shoot something!" Aubrey declared to her crew. Their 120mm short gun traversed and tracked on one of the T-40s. The gunner, Savanna, concentrated like she never done before as she carefully ranged the target. When she felt confident in her work, the trigger was pulled and an HE shell was lobbed toward its destination. It wobbled in the air as it flew and smacked into the rear of one of the T-40s, the explosion shuddering the whole machine.

"Yes!" Aubrey cheered. "Our first knock-out!"

The remaining four T-40s stopped and all turned their guns upon the Type 97.

"Ummm. If the rest of you guys can pitch in, that'd be real nice you." she said nervously over the radio.

From the sky above there was the brief sound of whistle that was followed by a bright flash of fire and smoke. Where the T-40s were, was consumed by this fireball and when it dissipated they all lied wrecked, the white flags on their turrets tattered and singed by the flames.

"Woah." Aubrey gasped.

"_Sierra_, good effect on targets. That's a four-in-one." Valarie reported, her voice filled with satisfaction.

"Ha! Not as good as our shot back in Arizona, but can't complain about getting four of 'em!" Jacqueline remarked.

"Yes, if only there were a gas depot here," Valarie recalled. "That's ten of their tanks down. Must've been their whole amphibious squad. That leaves on tank left on our side of the river; their Jackson."

* * *

The tunnel entrance has been dormant since the departure of most of the team. The IS-3, Super Pershing, SU-100, and Jagdpanzer have their cannons at the entrance though nothing has emerged in all this time. This, Ray knew. He was aware that the IS-4 was in a much better position to remain in there than to try and launch an attack. He gazed into the shadows, wondering how he could dislodge the heavy tank from its perch. His eyes wandered to the tracks that led into the tunnel. Ray pictured the tracks in their heyday, when trains still ran on them going to and fro to destinations all over Europe.

"Got it." he said to himself.

"What?" Ryan questioned.

"Got a plan to get through the tunnel."

"Cool. But how?"

"I'll tell ya later when the rest of the team comes back."

"Gee. Thanks."

Over at the SU-100, Nora was out of her hatch, though instead of looking to the tunnel, her attention was spent to their rear. She had this increasing paranoia that something lurked in the shadows of the trees. Seeking some sort of answer, and ideally, comfort, she dug out her tarot cards from her pocket. They were shuffled and dumped on the roof of her machine. She choose a card at random. It was an upright Moon.

"Fear. Anxiety. Intuition." Nora said, remembering its meaning. That was all she needed. She recovered her cards and ordered her vehicle to face the forest.

"What are you doing, _Ocotillo_?" Natalie inquired

"I got a strong feeling something is out there," Nora replied, staring out to the trees. "I think we're being watched."

Natalie looked toward the forest as well. "I guess there's always that chance..."

The Jagdpanzer joined the SU, their guns pointed to the wilderness. Ray looked on at these new developments, then nodded.

"Now that's a good idea. Two looking at the tunnel, another two watching the forest."

Nora maintained her watch on the forest. Eyes going from tree, to bush, to fallen log. It looked like it expanded all the way to infinity. So many pieces of cover to hide behind to strike and to slink away before any kind of retaliation can be administered. The forest can be a place of tranquility and for one to foster a connection to nature, but ask any army from any era of history and they will tell you how the forest can solicite feelings on consternation and be the site of disaster. Teutoburg Forest, in this same country, exemplifies that notion to tragic perfection.

Nora hoped that the next match the team has isn't at a forest. Hell, she hopes there won't be any trees at all. She dashed these thoughts as now she had to focus. Her vigilance paid off as through her binoculars, the new and improved ones that she had requested from Valarie, she spotted the most of subtle of movement from a disturbed bush. Then a muzzle flash.

"Reverse, now!"

The SU-100 lurched backwards and just barely did avoid a shot from the Jackson. The IS-3 and Super Pershing immediately turned around to face the enemy. A gaunt quiet arrived as the four machines stood their ground, those with turrets scanning the environment. Where they were, they had no cover. Exposed. Pinned down by a sniper, like infantry. The four machines dared not move as they feared the one that did would be the next target. But that didn't matter. Another shot was fired, striking the Jagdpanzer and out popped the white flag.

"Goddammit!" Ray exclaimed. "Where are they?"

"I don't see them!" Louise replied. "Is the rest of the team on their way back?"

Ray checked his tablet. "Ten minutes away at the least."

Another shot was fired and it hit and bounced off the upper glacis of the Super Pershing.

"Why are they going for us?" Louise said with puzzlement. "That Jackson can't knock us out from the front. Why aren't they going for _Ocotillo_? No offense."

"It's cool," Nora replied. "You're on to something, I think."

The Pershing was hit again on its upper glacis, though in a different spot. Ray thought wildly as to what was the purpose when he focused his attention on front hull of the Pershing. It was well armored, but not totally.

"Your hull machine gun." Ray spoke.

"What? We don't have a hull machine gunner. What about it?" Louise inquired.

"Your front armor has a hole it for the hull machine gun to shoot out of. They're aiming for that."

"But...but that's an impossible shot!"

"It can be impossible if you wiggle your hull."

Getting the message, the Super Pershing traversed in place from left to right at random, ensuring that the next hit it soon then received was another bounce.

"Alright, now what? They're still shooting and we don't get eyes on them." Louise remarked.

"Wait for the rest of the team to arrive," Ray told her. "_Ocotillo_, get behind me and _Jackalope_. We'll protect you from incoming fire."

The SU-100 remained still.

"_Ocotillo_?"

"We're going to try something," Nora told them. She then looked toward her gunner. "I trust you Leah. Do what you do."

Leah replied with a nod and brought her eyes to the gun sight. She scrutinized the environment that she could see and when she asked, the tank destroyer traversed as needed. Outside, the Jackson fired another at the Super Pershing and, like before, it bounced.

"Alright Isla," Sienna said sternly. "That's enough at the Super. Take aim and fire on that SU. It's something that you can actually knock out!"

"One more chance, Sienna, please!" Isla begged. "If I can knock out a Super Pershing from the front by hitting that small hull machine gun port, my god, I'll be legendary! It'd be like getting the title of gun shot bride.

Sienna could feel that Isla was obsessed with doing anything that could boast her already impressive career as a gunner.

"Fine. One more shot, but that's it."

"One more is all I need! I'm zeroing in."

The Jackson repositioned. Back at the SU-100, Leah adjusted the magnification of her gun sight and continued her examination of the terrain. She eased her breathing to achieve some level of calm as the last thing she needed was some random movement of her body interfering with her aim. Still, she was sweating all the same. That couldn't be helped. She traversed the gun horizontally when she halted. Her eyes stared at a large bush and noticed a small peculiarity. A perfect, black circle nestled in the bush with faint smoke emanating from within. The muzzle of a cannon that had just fired. Leah grinned.

"G'day. _Mate_."

At the press of the trigger, she fired a shot that soared down range. The shell tore into the bush and slammed dead center into the Jackson, its crew rocked by the impact. Its hull mangled and a white flag waving in the wind, Port Chalmers was now without their crackshot sniper.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Nora exclaimed. She wrapped her arms around Leah. "You got them! You got them real good!"

"Amazing!" Ray added. "_Ocotillo,_ well done!"

"The long-range nuisance is no more. Vanquished." Louise said calmly with a clap.

Not too long after, the rest of the team arrived. Ray looked toward the T-44 with a smile and got on the radio.

"_Oasis_, I am proud to report that all enemy tanks on our side of the river have been eliminated."

"Fantastic!" Valarie exclaimed. "Now, we can focus on the rest of them. Just gotta figure out how to deal with their IS-4..."

"Oh. I've got a plan just for that."

Inside the tunnel, the IS-4 was in the same spot it has spent the majority of the match thus far. Quinn had heard all the shooting that transpired outside and was curious. She listened to the radio and got some information of what was going on. Their amphibious platoon was wiped out and the most recent report stated that their Jackson, too, was out of action. Things haven't gone exactly to plan for Port Chalmers but Quinn's orders to hold their position in the tunnel remained firm. She was taking a drink of water when the echos of engines filled the tunnel. Quinn looked forward and soon saw the IS-3, with Ray out of the hatch. He soon stopped.

"Hey there," he greeted. "Told you I'd be back."

"I never doubted you," Quinn replied. She looked behind the IS-3 and saw the Super Pershin, and another tank behind it, and another. "What are you doing?"

"You already know."

"Your gun can't knock me out."

"Who said anything about shooting?"

Quinn looked at him puzzled, her head cocked to the side. "I don't understand."

"Trains' coming."

"W-what?"

"There's a train coming and it ain't making no stops till it reaches the other side."

Ray got into the turret and closed his hatch, leaving a still confused Quinn. But she won't be confused for much longer. The IS-3 speed toward her tank and slammed into their hull, metal screeching as it rubbed against each other. The Super Pershing behind him joined and pushed, as did the tank behind them. The whole team was pushing the IS-4, their combined strength forcing the Soviet heavy tank to give ground. Quinn ordered her tank to drive forward to combat this but their engine strained and whined under the heavy load. The Mojave Rose tankery team, together, kicked out the IS-4 from the tunnel.

"My god, Quinn!" Aaria cried out when she saw the IS-4. "What happened to not giving ground?!"

"I didn't give them anything! They took it!" Quinn retorted.

The IS-4 reversed and yield the tunnel to Mojave Rose. They kept their momentum and the team poured out of the tunnel. First out was the IS-3 who received a flurry of shots but was not harmed. Next was the Super Pershing that withstood the same amount of punishment. These two tanks formed up next to each other and proceeded to open fire on anything that moved. The sight of these armored beasts along with their powerful guns compelled Port Chalmers to start a retreat. The next tank out of the tunnel was the T-44 and it immediately joined the firefight. More of Mojave Rose's vehicles emerged from the tunnel, the VK, ACIV, Panther II, further increasing their firepower. The SU-14 from afar made its presence known, too, by dropping a shell among Port Chalmers' ranks.

"Ugh, this situation is untenable!" Aaria remarked. "Fighting withdrawal! Once we're clear, we turn and drive like hell to our secondary positions!"

The remaining tanks of Port Chalmers reversed while still shooting. Mojave Rose formed into a line and advanced upon them. All the commanders were in their turrets as the outside has become a battlefield in the truest sense of the word. Except for Valarie. She was out of the cupola, using the hatch as her only means of protection. Emma would've complained and demanded that she enter the turret but she was far too busy operating the gun. Shells whistled around Valarie. Some hit and ricocheted off friendly vehicles with others landed and exploded on the ground. One shell hit the ground right next to the T-44 and exploded. Valarie was peppered by debris and felt something nick her arm but her focus was elsewhere. Her body was full of adrenaline and she absolutely loved it. The thrill of the explosions, the whistle of shells flying over head, the sensation of the blast of a cannon, all of these and more Valarie lived for. There was no other place in the world she'd rather be.

Port Chalmers suffered two casualties but they managed to pull back enough to turn around and make their retreat. Mojave Rose engage in pursuit when Valarie then heard the drone of an airplane.

"Ah, supplies!" she said happily. She checked her tablet and saw a diamond-shaped blip. Her smile grew as she saw that the location of the supplies was much closer to them than Port Chalmers. "_Juniper, Jackalope_, _Owl_,_ Arroyo_. Move up half a klick and form a front line in case Port Chalmers attempts a counter attack. The rest of us will head to the supplies."

"Copy that, save us some of the good stuff!" Ray replied.

The team split off. Valarie lead the group toward the supplies that were a short distance away. The orange smoke was a much needed sight for Mojave Rose. With ammo, fuel, and food waiting for them, they picked up the pace and parked around the supplies. People hopped out of their tanks and descended upon the crates, tearing them open.

"Let's get some fuel first before anything else," Valarie told her crew. She was the first out of the tank and approached the supply drop. As she grabbed a fuel canister, she felt that the mood changed. Members of the team were looking at her with concerned looks on their faces. "What's wrong guys? Why are you looking at me?"

"Your...arm," Haley said shyly. "Look at your left arm."

Perplexed, Valarie did so and saw what everyone else saw. On her upper left arm, she saw that there was a tear in her uniform that exposed her skin and around this tear was a stain that wasn't sweat. Only then, when the adrenaline finally subside did she feel pain.

"Looks like I got hit," Valarie said plainly. "I'm surprised something like this hasn't happened earlier."

When Emma caught up with her, she reacted much differently.

"Oh...oh my god! Valarie! You're hurt!"

"It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Not that _bad_!?" Emma nearly screamed. "You're bleeding!"

"It's just a nick of the skin."

"Does it hurt?"

"...Yeah. It's starting to sting."

Emma turned to Ashley. "First aid kit and some water. Now."

"Some bandages will do. But, the water?" Valarie asked.

"Cleaning your wound."

"Sounds a bit much to me."

"It's _not_", Emma responded, looking directly in Valarie's eyes. "A piece of shrapnel has gave you a cut. How are you not...concerned at all?"

"It was something I expected to happen sooner or later. It's a risk that can't be avoided."

"Well, if you could just stay inside the turret—"

"I told you before why I have to be out of the hatch," Valarie said, interrupting her. "I need to see the battle go down as clear as I can and give out the orders as needed."

"And what if you get injured again, hmm?" Emma said, her eyes began to water. "What if instead of your arm, you get hit in your throat?" She stepped closer to Valarie and brought her voice to a whisper. "I don't want to see you fucking bleed out right in front of me."

"The last fatality in tankery was in 1965," Valarie responded, her voice calm and collected. "I'm not going to be the next one. No one on this team will."

Emma wrapped Valarie in a tight embrace. From her breathing, she was on the verge of tears. "I...I just can't bare to see you get hurt."

Valarie rubbed her back. "I know. But it's just the name of the game."

Ashley returned with the first aid and handed it to Emma.

"In that case, you'll have to put up with me patching you up every time you get hurt." Emma declared.

"Oh no, my girlfriend taking care of me," Valarie laughed. "A fate worse than death."

Grinning herself, Emma rolled up Valarie's uniform sleeve and got to work tending to her wound. The rest of the team gathered the supplies and strapped the excess onto their hulls. Heather and Ashley, after putting in more rounds and topping off the fuel tank, watched Emma wrap a bandage around Valarie's arm.

"She's dedicated," Heather remarked. "Real damn dedicated."

"No kidding," Ashley said. "To an unhealthy extreme."

"She needs a break where she does nothing tankery-related for like a week."

Ashley laughed. "Good luck making her."

Emma finished wrapping up Valarie and the pair returned to their tank. With the group laden with supplies, they drove on to rejoin the rest of the team. Over the radio, Valarie ordered the SU-14 to cross the tunnel for they had remained on the other side this whole time. Once they were across, she gave them another order.

"Destroy the tunnel, _Sierra_."

"With pleasure!" Jacqueline responded. She addressed her crew. "Load an anti-concrete shell!"

The loaders happily complied with their task.

"I love expedited shipping." Raven said with glee as she grabbed one part of the shell.

Within twenty seconds, the anti-concrete round was put together and in the breech. The SU-14 turned around and at short range fired its shell right into the ceiling of the rail tunnel, bringing down a cascade of rubble that sealed it. The battlefield was now truly divided, with only one side of it now populated by the match participants. The artillery drove to a new firing position as the team reformed. The excess supplies were shared with the rest of the team that weren't at the supply drop. Once everyone was restocked on the essentials, and having a fair share of snacks, they drove in one line to cover as much ground as possible. They'll locate enemy. That is an eventuality.

* * *

Kilometers away, the remaining forces of Port Chalmers were all together in the middle of the forest. Aaria was contemplating their next move. The battle situation has developed not necessarily to New Zealand's advantage. But, with their IS-4 still operational, they still had the means to do some real damage.

"Would be wise to take up a defensive posture," Aaria thought aloud. "Quinn, you're up front and center. The rest of the team will be right behind for support"

"Copy that," Quinn replied with a quick nod. "And I'm sure you, yourself, will keep out of sight?"

"Well, duh," Aaria told her. "I am the flag tank."

"Gotcha. Let's get ready."

* * *

With every meter the Mojave Rose team drove, it mean one less meter Port Chalmers had to hide. They were making steady progress toward the set boundary of the battlefield. Beyond it, it was a no-fire zone. Any tank that crossed this boundary had one minute to return to the area of engagement as soon as possible. Should they fail to do so, the monitoring equipment installed in all tankery-sactioned vehicles would automatically disqualify them from the match.

It was well past four o'clock in the afternoon. The sun had reached its apex in the sky and had started its descent to sink below the horizon. People were starting to feel weary, the match beginning to take its toll. But with both sides feeling that the end was near, they couldn't afford to lose their focus. Not now.

After around twenty minutes of driving, the Mojave Rose soon came upon Port Chalmers holding an elevated position. When the two teams saw each other, the shooting immediately began. The ground in their area quickly became cratered as shells exploded, trees were splintered, and steel hit. The IS-4 drew most of the team's attention, with the tank itself receiving seven shots and bouncing just as many. When Mojave Rose approached close enough, Port Chalmers jointly reversed.

"We're not gonna hurt that IS-4 from the front with any of our guns." Ray remarked as the IS-3 fired another ineffective shot.

"Shoot their tracks," Valarie ordered. "I want that thing to crawl to a stop."

The Panther II was the quickest to respond. They stopped, took aim, and sent an 88mm round that shattered not only the tracks of the IS-4, but destroyed its left roadwheel. The heavy tank could no longer move.

"God, that is going to be agonizing to repair," Quinn remarked. Through her periscopes, she peered at the Panther II. "Amazing a thing like that is actually legal. No matter. We've beaten our fair share of cats. Take them out!"

The IS-4 with a thunderous boom brought down the Panther II with a shot at its turret cheek. Casualties were mounting on either sides with the VK getting immobilized by a Churchill. Though, now with the IS-4 now totally unable to move it was vulnerable to a different type of threat. The SU-14, thanks to the coordinates supplied to them by Valarie, got them ranged in. With an HE shell ready, the artillery piece fired. Valarie from out her hatch paid a close eye to the IS-4. After a few seconds, the round landed right on its engine deck, consuming the machine in a great cloud of smoke and fire. Once crippled, it was now fully eliminated.

"We have you now," Valarie determined. With her binoculars, she surveyed the remaining enemy team and caught a glance of Port Chalmers flag tank before it disappeared from view. "Flag tank spotted. They're running!"

Ray reviewed the map and learned that they were all approaching the boundaries of the battlefield. The avenues of escape were closing fast.

"_Oasis_, if we press our attack we can push them to the edges of the battlefield then they'll have no chance of escape. Like a snake constricting its prey." Ray suggested.

Valarie couldn't stifle a chuckle. "I like the sound of that. All tanks, increase speed!"

The Mojave Rose moved with a rapidness that matched their eagerness. What more, not only were their main cannons incessantly firing, but also their coaxial machine guns to add on to the chaos of the firefight. A T-34-85 from Port Chalmers suffered a hit from the Super Pershing while a late-model Sherman with the long barreled 76mm took out the Type 97.

"I don't like it when a new crew gets handled that roughly in their first outing," Valarie remarked with scorn. "Fuck them up."

Somewhat taken aback over the overt hostility in Valarie's words, Emma refocused and sent a round to the offending Sherman, bringing an end to them. Port Chalmers' numbers further dwindled, compelling Aaria in her ACIII use the remnants of her team as a distraction while she escapes. Her tank drove down and embankment and attempted to sneak away by moving past Mojave Rose as they fought her team. Yet, Ray spotted this maneuver of her and immediately ordered his tank to do a hard right. The IS-3 barreled over the embankment and nearly came to a crash in front of the ACIII who screeched to a stop to avoid a collusion. Both had their guns aimed at the other but neither tank fired. Ray popped out of his hatch and Aaria followed suit.

"Well. Good to see you again," Aaria said. She looked quite different compared to when the two initially met. Her uniform had become filthy with all sorts of grime and her face screamed exhaustion, with the same to be said about Ray. "Things have taken a turn."

"That they have," Ray replied with a smile. "Looks like we pushed you guys nearly all the way to the boundary."

"You betcha. You made us feel cornered. All claustrophobic."

"Hmm, this edge of the map stuff reminds me of something," Ray recalled, now sporting a smug grin. He crossed his arms. "You ever seen those old medieval-era maps?"

Aaria raised a brow. "I have," she answered, with the shooting of their nearby teams in the background. "More art than maps really."

"Yep. Wanna know what those old cartographers wrote regarding places at the edge of the world?"

"What'd they write?"

Ray leaned in and delivered his answer that doubled as an order,

"Here be dragons."

Once those words left his lips, the IS-3 at point blank annihilated the ACIII with a savage blast from its 122mm cannon. The shooting in the area promptly ceased not long after as over the radios of all the tanks still operation, this announcement was heard by all.

"Mojave Rose of the United States has won! They advance in the world tournament!"

* * *

It was the late evening and the Mojave Rose tankery team were celebrating their victory by lounging in their private tent. The team were having relaxed chattered as they unwind from their day when two visitors entered their tent. All too familiar with this part of tankery, Valarie reflexively got up from where she sat and went to meet them.

"Bloody good show, if I say so myself," Aaria complimented. "To tell you the truth, victory is not nearly as important as having fun in these things and fun was definitely had."

"Likewise," Valarie replied. "I've had a blast."

"We had a blast too. Literally. Thanks to your artillery. Really messed with us."

"That's psychological warfare for you."

They both shared a laugh.

"Good luck, you Americans. You got a lot riding on you."

The two captains shook hands. Though before the leadership of Port Chalmers made their departure, Quinn sought out Ray who was sitting next to Natalie, the pair holding hands.

"Hey," Quinn said to him. "I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Goodbye," Ray said sweetly. "It was great meeting you."

Quinn turned to Natalie, who was eyeing her suspiciously.

"You...you treat him well, okay?"

Natalie tightened her grip on Ray. "I will."

"Okay," Quinn said as she tried to hold it together. "Um...bye. And...ah...g-good luck."

Port Chalmers left the tent. Madison soon after entered and made a beeline to Valarie and gave her a huge hug.

"Another victory under your belt!" she exclaimed. "You must feel ecstatic!"

"I do," Valarie said, her voice weary. "Do you know where our next match is gonna take place?"

"God damn, you already want to know?" Madison asked, bewildered.

"I just wanna know the location to brainstorm a little."

"Well, I'd tell ya if I knew but I don't. Where your next match will be set hasn't been determined yet.

"Gotcha," Valarie said with a stretch. She took off her helmet and let her hair flow down. "Our day is done. Let's go home."

The Mojave Rose team left the spectator's area. They arrived at the ship late in the night after a several hours drive in a bus back to the Port of Hamburg. Now utterly exhausted, the team retired to their apartments. With a mighty bellow of the ship's horn, the vessel departed from port and set sail for the open waters of the Atlantic. The month of August proved to be a fun-filled month and the team hoped that September will be just as good.

Autumn can be an enchanting time of year.


	66. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaked Photos.  
A Vote.  
Tankathlon.

_Monday, September 2nd 2013_

_Catalina's School Carrier_

_Atlantic Ocean _

With another victory secured, the Mojave Rose tankery were made their departure from Europe, leaving the Port of Hamburg behind them. Their destination, of as now, was unknown as the location of their next match has yet to be determined. So, the school ship charted a course to sail around the Atlantic till such news were to arrive.

It was the crack of dawn and Valarie was awoken not by the alarm on her phone but by the cries of the seagulls perched on the railing of the balcony. She rose from bed and went to the balcony, with the act of her opening the sliding doors enough to shoo away the birds. Valarie remained out there a moment to gaze out to the open ocean. Though she adored the desert views back home with every ounce of her being, the majesty of the ocean was a close second.

A wind chill compelled her to go back inside where she then went to the bathroom to check herself. She rolled up the sleeve on her left arm and unwrapped her bandage, it stained with dried blood. Using the mirror, she analyzed her wound. It was in the early stages of healing, though the bleeding has stopped. Her injury looked like she received a slash from a knife. A slight touch from her finger made her wince in pain.

"Heh, a little souvenir from Germany." she joked to herself.

A clean bandage was applied and once it was snug she left the bathroom. She found Emma awake and on her phone.

"Good morning." she said without looking up from her device.

"Morning," Valarie replied. She got back in bed next to her. "Sleep well?"

"When you recently win a match, that tends to make people sleep like a baby."

"...And?" Valarie said grinning.

Emma leaned in to kiss her on the lips. "Sleeping next to a lovely girl is pretty magical if I do say so myself."

The two rested and lounged on the bed together, their hands held tight. For Valarie, she reflected on the recent match. On one part in particular. Thinking about it caused the smile on her face to smile and her mood to shift to something more serious.

"Can I tell you something, Emma?"

"Yes, always. What's up?"

"Before our match, during that captain's meetup, Port Chalmers knew about the Cromwell having the rockets, the Jumbo and its new gun, and our new Type 97."

"How? How do they know all that?" Emma questioned with concern. "Our match against them should've been the first time Port Chalmers would've learned of them."

"They saw pictures of them before hand."

"Pictures? But who took them and where were they shared?"

"Hmm," Valarie hummed. "I've got a hunch..."

She got out her laptop and immediately went online. The first place she went to was a massive web forum that was solely dedicated to tankery that all tankery athletes were privy too as it was immensely popular. Out of the plethora of topics being simultaneously discussed by hundreds of users, one was about the internationals. Unsurprisingly, this thread has received an obscene amount of attention from tankery fans all over the world. Valarie started her search on the most recent page of discussion and worked backwards steadily reading older and older content. It didn't take long for her to come across pictures of very familiar machines.

"There it is," Valarie remarked. "Whoever took the photos shared them here on this website. The place is so popular that at least someone from Port Chalmers was bound to come across it sooner or later."

Emma took a moment to study the photos closely, then gasped.

"Valarie! These were taken inside the garage!"

Valarie too took a closer and rubbed her temple.

"I don't like this at all."

"How do we figure out who took these photos?" Emma questioned

"Since they were taken from within the garage, we have our suspects."

Emma stared at her for a moment.

"You're not implying that someone from the team would do this? To take photos of our new equipment and tank to leak them online?"

Valarie got out of bed and proceeded to get dressed for school.

"We're going to get to the bottom of this." she declared.

Emma and Valarie got dressed in their school uniforms, got their bags together, and headed off to campus. As the two now had the identical schedule, they never spent a moment apart from each other much to their intense delight. Yet, in the back of their minds the photo situation lingered. So, when the lunch break arrived the two messaged Heather and Ashley to join them. Heather, having the same lunch period, came no problem. Ashley, however, did not. She decided to skip class to come here. That wasn't an issue for her. She's done it before. All four girls met at a palm tree and Valarie explained the situation. Heather was the first to react. Quite emotionally at that.

"I know who took them!" she nearly screamed. "That girl from our Montana match! I saw her on that day the princess came, she's the the one who did it! Fucking bitch broke in to _our _garage!"

Ashley hugged Heather from behind and whispered into her ear,

"Calm down, babe, calm down."

Heather took several long, deep breaths as her eyes were closed.

"...Okay. I'm calm."

"Alright, she's a suspect," Valarie said. "But we need more evidence to conclusively, one hundred percent, find out who did it."

Ashley pondered for a bit, then snapped her fingers.

"Oh! Check the metadata!"

"Check the...what?" Valarie questioned.

"All digital photos contain metadata that contain all sorts of information. It'll have the stuff we'll need to pin down the person who did this."

"Nice. How do we get this data?"

"With a program. Send those photos to me and I'll get 'em."

The bell rang that signaled the end of lunch.

"That's one class fully skipped," Ashley remarked. "Thought I wouldn't do that anymore in a new school. Oh well. Old habits die hard. I'll have the data ready at the meeting later."

_Later_

The school day has concluded but the business of the day has not. The Mojave Rose tankery team were hard at work to get their machines back in a presentable, and for some, functional order. Those of the team that got knocked out had repairs to do. At the Cromwell, Sage and her crew were inspecting the impact that ended the match for them. A nasty hit from a 90mm gun.

"At least we only got hit once." remarked Andrea, the loader.

"Yeah, and what a hit," Sage said. "This'll take some time to patch up. We'll make it fun. Try to, anyway."

Parked elsewhere, Ray and his crew were lounging around at the IS-3. Work for them was light with it only entailing simple cleaning, maintenance, and resupply. On their helmets was something new; the flag of New Zealand. Another flag adored on their helmet to represent their victory. To say that they felt proud would be an understatement. The boys sat on their tank once their work was done.

"You know something guys," Ryan then asked his friends. "We are the only tank on the team who hasn't been knocked out. Every other tank on this team has been eliminated at some point, even the new girls in the Type 97. Us? Bounce city, man. Armor so thick nothing can hurt us."

"Now, we did have some close calls," Jeremy reminded. "Like at the nationals where that Jagdpanther took a shot and nearly got us, and way back in our Montana match were we got all that attention from girls who totally wanted to date us."

"Never getting eliminated in the nationals is one thing. But never getting eliminated in both the nationals and the internationals? That's gotta be a achievement and it has our names on it." Cesar boasted.

Ray stood before his friends, hands at his hips, and gave them all looks.

"You guys know what you just did?" he said to them. "You jinxed us. Now in our next match for sure we're gonna get eliminated. And I bet we'll be the first one out too."

"Yeah right!" Ryan said with a laugh. "We're not incompetent. We're not gonna make some dumb move that'll get us knocked out."

"It's not about incompetency. Sometimes it all just boils down to bad luck."

"We'll just have to keep being lucky then. Kinda like how you got lucky with Natalie, eh?" Ryan said with a wink.

"God," Ray said as he broke into a blush and his friends laughed. "You guys are just gonna keep using that against me, huh?"

"Oh, just for fun. To see ya squirm," Cesar said. He then caught sight of an approaching figure in his periphery. A person they were just talking about. "Wow, we must've summoned her or something."

Natalie arrived and immediately locked arms with Ray.

"I'm just going to borrow him for a sec." she told them.

Natalie led Ray to behind to IS-3 so the two could have some privacy. They held hands as they gazed at each other with loving smiles.

"This Wednesday has something special attached to it," Natalie said softly. "I wonder what it is."

"I think I do," Ray replied. "My garum will be ready. You know, that fish sauce? This Wednesday will mark one month since I set it up. Man, I hope it's good."

Natalie looked at him for a second, then nodded.

"Uh-huh," she uttered. "Also...that day is you're birthday."

"Right!" Ray exclaimed. "Geez, how could I forget my own birthday?"

"And what a milestone you're about to achieve. Turning eighteen."

"Wow. Eighteen." Ray remarked with some awe. "A legal adult. That opens some doors."

"Yeah! You could watch R-rated movies."

"Nothing stopped me before."

"Hmm. True. Well, now you could check out those adult sites."

"Again. Nothing has stopped me before."

Natalie blushed faintly and chuckled.

"I learn more about you everyday. Anywho, got any plans for your birthday?"

"That garum for one. Gonna make some Roman-style bread to go along with it."

"Hmm, that's a start," Natalie pondered. "We might as well go full speed with the Roman stuff. Have your birthday dinner foods the Romans would eat."

Ray had an expression of pure excitement.

"Oh my god, that would be _perfect_!" he said gleefully. "A Roman-style dinner. I've got some related recipes. Though I'd need help to make them all."

"I'll pitch in. I can cook. Kinda."

"And I bet I can make my friends help too."

Elsewhere in the garage, a tank crew were going through a different set of emotions. At the T-44, the girls were around Ashley as she fiddled with her laptop. A few keystrokes and on the screen appeared a list of data that only Ashley could make sense of.

"What are we looking at?" Valarie inquired. "Looks like computer code."

"The metadata of those photos," Ashley explained. "Thanks to this info, it'll go a long way in figuring out who took those photos. One, it reports the model of the device that took the photo. In our case, it's showing a phone model. The same phone was used for the photos so one person took them all."

"What else can we learn from this?"

"GPS coordinates if the device that took the photo has its GPS feature enabled. The metadata here has coordinates, but it doesn't do us much good as we already know where the photos were taken."

"Anything else?"

"Date and time the images were created. There were all made the same day, Friday August 23rd. Earliest photo created at 10:37 AM."

"It was _her_!" Heather blurted out. "It has to be!"

"Hold on now," Valarie said. "Before we do anything else, we need to rule out if anyone on the team were behind this. Ashley, you said this data says what kind of phone took the photos?"

Ashley nodded.

"Yep. An iPhone 5C. The thirty-two gig one."

"Alright. All of you spread out and gather the team. Tell them to meet here."

Her crew quickly left to spread the news. Valarie climbed up her tank to stand upon the turret. Within half a minute, the team had congregated at the T-44, all curious over what Valarie was going to say. Her arms were behind her back and the look on her face was serious. Once everyone settled down, Valarie addressed them

"I'll just get right to it. Photos of our new equipment and tank were taken and leaked online where Port Chalmers saw them."

Surprised and concerned faces existed among the team upon hearing the news. Their minds raced over who could've committed this atrocity.

"We have a suspect," Valarie continued. "But I first need to make sure that it wasn't anyone in this garage. If someone on this team took those photos...God help you."

Everyone felt incredibly intimidated. Such a serious tone of voice along with a threat from a girl normally so kind shook them to their very cores.

"Was anyone in this garage in Friday August 23rd at around 10:37 AM? Step forward if you have. _Now_."

From the crowd, Haley and Heidi meekly stepped forward. They felt intensely uncomfortable with all the glaring eyes of the team on them.

"Um," Haley began but choked on her anxiety. "We were here around that time."

Heidi nodded in confirmation.

Valarie look down upon them from the T-44's turret. Like a authoritative monarch who was contemplating what would be the appropriate, and harsh, punishment to administer. But more things needed to be known.

"Why were you in here?" Valarie asked in a calm manner. Though her calmness only served to further intimidate them.

"O-on that day," Heidi stuttered out. "We learned that our new gun came in so we rushed over to see it because we got so excited."

"Yeah!" Haley exclaimed. "And if you remember the meeting that day, you may have noticed that the crate the gun came in was already open."

Valarie slowly nodded.

"I do remember that," she told them, to their relief. "I was one of the first people to arrive at the garage that day and saw the crate already pried open."

"So, we didn't take those photos," Haley went on. "We'd never do such a thing."

Valarie climbed off her tank to meet the pair at eye level.

"One more thing," Valarie said. "I'd like to see your phones, please."

Wanting to clear their names, Haley and Heidi presented their devices without hesitation. Valarie took them and gestured Ashley over.

"What models are these phones?"

Ashley took a glance at them.

"All you need to know is that these are android phones. Not iPhones. They're clean." Ashley explained.

Satisfied and relieved, Valarie returned the phones.

"You two are innocent," she said in a loud enough voice to ensure all of the team heard. "Everyone, back to your tanks. Mister and Missus Redwood will not know of this._ I_ will handle the situation myself."

The team dispersed and the routine resumed. Heather approached Valarie eagerly.

"Oh! What are we gonna do?" she asked, her body language telling Valarie she was ready for a fight.

"Nothing."

Valarie's answer stunned her whole crew.

"What. Do. You. Mean. _NOTHING_?!" Heather angrily asked.

Valarie was unphased.

"We all now know that girl from our Montana match was the perpetrator. But what can she do now? We're in the middle of the ocean."

"But once our next match location is determined she'll know then and maybe make her way over there." Ashley said.

"I get that this girl doesn't like us, but does she hate us enough to do that? I doubt it."

"How is she getting around?" Emma wondered. "Planes? Maybe she's on a school ship too."

"I can believe that. A school ship." Heather added.

"Guys..." Valarie said with an exasperated sigh. "That girl's appearance here was just a coincidence. A moment of opportunity for her. She saw that we were close enough and made a move. What's the next chance of us being close to her? I wouldn't bet on that. And even if she is on a school ship, what is that ship gonna do? Follow us?

* * *

_Same Day_

_Golden Gate's School Ship_

_Atlantic Ocean_

The school day was over, yet, the entirety of Golden Gate's student body was still on campus. All of them were in the school's grand auditorium that resembled something like a stadium. The auditorium was jam packed with over 3000 students who were there. They were all excited as they were there to receive some news that they've have been looking forward to hearing all day. What was it exactly? The outcome of a vote.

In their seats at the highest level Dakota, Gracie, and Fiona were incredibly eager to learn what won the vote.

"Oh man! I love it when this day comes! Fiona exclaimed. "One of the few good things about this school. That and the NASA observatories and those SETI radio telescopes."

"The first Monday of September is always a good day," remarked Dakota. "My goodness, can you feel the electricity in the air? I think this year is the most energizing the school has been in a while."

"So, what did you guys vote for?" Gracie asked them.

"Duh, what do you think?" Fiona said near mockingly. "I can't believe that was an option this year."

"I know, right?" Dakota said. "Makes sense though. It's very popular."

"Just hope enough people voted for it," Gracie hoped, her fingers crossed. "It'll be otherworldly cool if it won.

"Me too," Dakota said. "Did a prayer earlier to help our chances."

"Let's hope the big man upstairs is taking calls." Fiona said with a chuckle.

The girls held hands as they waited, along with the rest of the students, for the result to be announced. What the students of Golden Gate have voted for was the course their ship would follow for the remainder of the school year. A choice normally reserved for the school's administration staff, at Gold Gate it was tradition that the students themselves choose where their ship sails. Throughout the school day on the first Monday of September, students were handed their ballots where they then marked their choice and cast their ballot. It was a point of pride for a student to vote as not every school ship allowed its students to have this much influence over a ship's navigation.

Voting day was always treated like a holiday with students acting like there were partaking in some sort of festival. In the middle of the auditorium was an impressive stage. A student walked onto it and prepped the microphone.

"There's Juliana," Fiona said while pointing. "The only time in the year I want to hear what this bit-ah, um, _fine_ lady has to say."

Dakota gave her a approving smile.

"Thank you, Fiona."

Back on the stage, Juliana tapped on the microphone, the sound echoing throughout the huge building. All the chatter died down quickly after.

"Students of Golden Gate Institute of Technology! Another period of voting has come and gone and I am most pleased to announce that we have been very efficient with the process, in both of casting the ballot and counting them all. Better than last year by a mile. Each and every one of you here has voted to determine our ship's course. Not any of the teachers, any of the school staff, or even the people that actually operate this ship, but you. The students. The next generation of doctors, engineers, scientists, and other professions that make this world turn."

At the top row, Fiona let out a frustrated sigh.

"Oh, get on with it already!"

She was shushed by nearby students.

"Come on! I'm just saying what you're all thinking! I know I'm right!"

Juliana on the stage got out a piece of folded paper from her pocket and opened it. She cleared her throat.

"Now! The results! The students of Golden Gate, by an ASTOUNDING margin of eighty-seven percent of the vote, have chosen to follow the world tankery tournament!"

The auditorium erupted into cheers and applause that was utterly deafening. At the center of it all, Juliana savored it. It was her absolute favorite thing to do as student council president. She turned in place to look at the crowd, all their excited, eager faces.

"I love democracy."

Cassandra, who was standing nearby, joined Juliana on the stage. Amid the deafening noise of the crowd, she leaned close to her to that she could hear what she had to say.

"You have to tell me. What did you do to rig the vote?"

Juliana looked at with a grin.

"Easy to see why you think the vote would've been rigged. I am the one responsible in overseeing counting the ballots. But I didn't have to do a damn thing. All day I I heard students excitedly talking about the world tournament and hoping that the ship following it would win. Though I am glad it won, I do find it strange this school, that does not operate a tankery team, seems to be so invested in the sport."

"It's because of that championship drought. The last American team to win the internationals was in 1975. The current, heretical, American team has recently won its second match so a lot of people are hyped."

"I understand your strong desire to see Mojave Rose go down in defeat. I'm in the same camp. You've explained it to me quite well why tankery ought to remain exclusively for women. Us girls need to have our own spaces after all."

"Exactly! The more Mojave Rose succeeds in the tournament, the more damage they cause to the sport. And if they win it all...then I fear the damage will be irreparable. That can't allowed to happen. It can't."

"And it won't," Juliana said confidently. "We're on Mojave Rose's trail now. No matter where in the world they'll go, they'll find no safe harbor."

_Tuesday_

_Catalina's School Carrier_

One of the perks of being a student at Catalina was that when the lunch period rolled around, students were permitted to leave campus during the allotted period to either eat off campus or go home if it was close enough. Since arriving at Catalina, Paige has had this routine whenever she had lunch. She would leave campus and walk to a nearby park. It wasn't the massive Inspiration Park that the team used for their practices. This one was much smaller though Paige loved it all the same. It had a charm to it.

Today, like on other days, Paige was wandering at the park. What she liked most about it was that it had a pond that was surrounded by some trees and thick bushes. An ideal place to get away from it all and enjoy nature. And enjoy she will in her own way as she won't be lounging by the pound but, instead, foraging.

Paige collects plants.

It's a true passion. In her apartment, she has this thick book of pressed plants, all the fruits of her foraging activities over the past several years. Being from Barstow, it's not surprising to see that her entire collection consists of desert plants. Though she does enjoy them greatly, especially the flowers that bloom from cacti, she wants some diversity and now with the team going around the world she's got it. During the prolonged lulls in the team's Spanish and German matches, Paige had got out of her tank and foraged around the area. In both matches, she had gotten lucky by finding and snagging some specimens of the local flora, which are now proudly pressed and stored in her book.

At this park, Paige slowly walked around the pond, her eyes scanning the ground to find anything worthy for her collection. Her past times at this park has served her well as she found wild tulips, carnations, lavender, and appropriately enough, roses. The day was nice and cool, a soft breeze coming and going periodically that made all the leaves of the bushes and trees dance like graceful ballet dancers. There was a faint buzzing in the air from the bees that kept the plants blooming and thriving. She walked a few more steps then stopped to knell down. At the base of one of the bushes she saw something that she definitely did not have in her collection. It looked like a weed that had blooming flowers. Covered on this plant was a multitude of hairs.

"Oooh, this will be an interesting one for sure!"

She reached out to collected it but the moment she touched it, her hand immediately recoiled in pain. It was intense and where she felt the pain was also and itchiness.

"Damn it!"

She went to the pond and cleaned her hands with the water that only slightly did something for the pain. On her right hand was a redness, a rash. She then decided to take out a plant reference book she brought and flipped through it until she saw a picture of the plant she just attempted to collect. It stated,

_Tread-Softly ( Cnidoscolus stimulosus )_

_Description: Herb that has stinging hairs on both plant and flower. Irritant compounds from these hairs will cause intense stinging and itching. Symptoms last less than an hour, but as a general rule, don't touch plants with hairs!_

"Nice Paige," she said to herself. "Learning what plants hurt to touch the hard way. Never change."

A peak at the time told her that lunch was about to end. She got up from the pond and made her way back to campus, itching the whole time. Who knew that lunch time could provide one hell of a learning experience.

_Later_

The initial days that follow a match left Aurora with a mixture of emotions. One, of course, was the satisfying sensation of victory but that was somewhat muddled by the fact that with how the tournament was structured, matches were only a monthly affair. Aurora wanted more action. The shooting the team does every week during their practices were fun to a point. She didn't want the only opportunity to shoot at other tanks only be once a month. Aurora wanted her Puma on the prowl more often, to hear the crack of the 50mm cannon, and to feel the heat from the escaping gasses once the shell was ejected from its breech.

And it looks like she might just get that opportunity.

Last night, she was browsing the internet and came across something that captured her full attention. She spent that night reading as much as she can about what she found and printed out the material. During the meeting, Aurora gathered her crew and presented them with her findings.

"Tankathlon?" Riley said with curiosity. She was reading the material Aurora brought. "What is that?"

"A form of tankery that has way less rules. One in fact. All tanks must be ten tons or less." Aurora explained.

"Ten tons?" Avery repeated? "The Puma is nearing twelve tons."

"That's fully loaded," Aurora said. "With some weight shedding like we did for that race, I bet we can bring it under ten tons."

"Hmm, maybe. This all sounds fun."

"Yeah, but something like this is better with company. There is only one other tank on this team that qualifies."

Aurora gestured for her crew to follow and the three girls went to the AMR. There, Cassidy and Nathan were tending to the engine. When the Puma crew arrived, they took notice.

"Yo," Cassidy greeted. "You girls here to learn from us and how to be a proper scout tank?"

Aurora chuckled.

"Another time, maybe," she told them. "I'm here with a proposition."

Cassidy approached her.

"Oh? I'm listening."

Aurora gave her the material and proceeded to explain tankathlon and its one rule. She noticed that Cassidy was smiling during all of this.

"Oh hell yeah, I really like the sound of this different type of tankery." Cassidy remarked.

"I thought you might. I'm going to ask Valarie what she thinks and-"

Cassidy brought an arm around Aurora and brought her closer to the AMR.

"Hey,hey,hey. How about we not do that?" she said.

"What? What do you mean?"

"From the material you just gave me, tankathlon seems to be like this underground version of tankery. Things that are underground tend not to be super tolerated, if you know what I mean."

"I do. Tankathlon is very much so an unofficial sport. All tankery governing bodies around the world has denounced it in some shape or form, with the Japanese organization the one who is very vocally opposed to it."

"Now, think about what we saw yesterday when Valarie was on the hunt for that person who took the photos of our new stuff. She was on the freaking warpath man."

"Yeah...she was quite scary."

"Do you think she'd the person who approve of us doing an unofficial sport that maybe could get us in trouble if caught?"

Aurora thought for a moment.

"No, not at all," she concluded.

"Exactly," Cassidy said as she brought her hands together. "So. Let's do it and not tell her or Ray. Or anyone else really."

"Just keep it all a secret?"

"Yep. It has to be that way. I'm sure people who do tankathlon has to keep it under wraps too."

"Hmm. I can see that."

The crews of the Puma and AMR huddled together and entered into a secretive pact. They committed themselves to do tankathlon. The fact they they would have to keep this a secret added an thrilling element that they all enjoyed, a thrill piled on top the inherent exciting nature of tankery.

"When is our tanka-thing match?" Nathan questioned.

"Slow down there, Nathaniel," Cassidy said, purposely using his longer name to get a rise out of him. "We first need to know where the hell this ship is going. Once we do, we'll start looking if they are any tankathlon matches happening. We'll sign up and do what we do."

With plans made, the Puma and AMR crews returned to their respective vehicles. The month of September had just barely begun and already was it looking like it'll be a time filled with more action than normal. Yet, no matter what plans the team makes, their match will always be their main focus and where they will devote all of their energies. For their next match will give them adversity, a crisis, and all the salt the team could want.


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I should be glad if you would congratulate the REME concerned on doing a quick job which had been most valuable to this brigade.”
> 
> \---British Major General Tope on the success of REME's ( Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers ) project on improvised AFVs.

_Wednesday, September 4th 2013_

_Catalina's School Carrier_

_Atlantic Ocean_

The Mojave Rose tankery team was going well. Two matches into the internationals and two victories to their name. If the team made it all the way to the end, it would mean they would've fought a total of nine matches, one per month, all culminating in the world finals that will take place next March. The road to the finals will be the polar opposite of easy. It will not be straightforward, rather, it will be filled with twist and turns and covered with obstacles and hazards, known and unknown. No one on the team was deluded thinking that it was going to be straightforward anyway. And, who's to say that Mojave Rose will even make it all the way to the end to the finals? For all they know, the road that they are on right now could terminate in a dead end with hostile guns poised to send them back to California.

Getting more tanks will definitely improve their odds. But that's the problem. The rate that the team was acquiring new vehicles was slow and sporadic. As a result, the team since day one have suffered being at the number's disadvantage. They have managed to overcome this, though with tanks like an IS-3 and Super Pershing most certainly makes up for the lack of vehicles. Still, more tanks would be welcome. This was on Valarie's mind. Has been since the team got organized. Other schools didn't have this problem. For some schools, what they agonize over is choosing _what_ tanks to field out of their large roster. Mojave Rose's tank problem did not stem from the fact that they lacked the funds to purchase thanks. Madison was more than wiling to pay for any and all tanks the team wants, and has done so for the AMR and Type 97.

It was finding them that was the issue.

With the internationals in full swing, tanks were becoming a scarce commodity as numerous tankery teams were snatching them up at every conceivable opportunity. Even teams not participating in the world competition were acquiring tanks as if they were going to be extinct to bolster their teams for the smaller and more local competitions in their home country. Some schools were even already preparing their teams for the _next_ world tournament.

At her desk in her apartment, Valarie was on her computer searching for a new tank for the team but an hour of searching has yielded nothing. They were a handful of WW1 tanks and others from the Interwar years but they were so woefully outdated compared to the Panthers, Pershings, and Tigers that were common to encounter at this level of competition. She rubbed her eyes as they were strained by the bright glow of her computer screen, then sighed.

"You're up early."

Turning around, Valarie found Emma who had just awoken less than a minute ago.

"It's a little past 5:30 in the morning." she informed.

"I know," Valarie replied. "A lot of things are on my mind. Made me wake early."

"A lot of things, huh? Like what."

"Main concern is where out next tank will be coming from. The sooner we get another the better."

"I getcha. Any luck?"

Valarie brought her hands to her face.

"No." she admitted, her voice muffled behind her hands.

Emma hugged Valarie from behind and laid a kiss on the top of her head.

"We'll get another tank soon enough. Hey, it's probably closer than you think. Now, you've been working a lot and I've been meaning-"

"Hold on, what did you just say?" Valarie asked, interrupting her. She stood straight up in her chair.

"That...you're working a lot?"

"No, no. Before that."

"Um. That the team's next tank is closer than you think?"

"Yes...yes!" Valarie exclaimed. She got up and quickly started to get dressed for school. "What if a tank is on this ship?"

"Valarie, when I said that I didn't mean _physically_ closer."

"But what if?"

"Well..." Emma said. She hesitated for a few moments. "I guess it can be possible. Kinda doubt it though. We'll need to talk with someone who knows this ship well."

"I know just the girl."

"Yeah, I think we both know her."

The young couple dressed, ate breakfast together, and once the time drew near, departed for school. In their morning classes, Valarie had this total fixation on the possibility that could be on the ship. Somewhere. Maybe. Emma listened as Valarie energetically spouted all her theories on where a tank could potentially be. Her belief was that should there be a tank, it'll most likely be deep within the ship. Once the lunch period rolled around, Valarie and Emma went straight toward Catalina's student council room. The pair stood before the door, with Valarie peering into the door's little window to look within.

"They're not having like a meeting, right?" Emma questioned. "Don't wanna intrude if so."

"They don't have meeting during lunch. Madison told me there's a whole class period dedicated to the business of the student council. She also told me that she always spends her lunches in here." Valarie explained.

"Gotcha. So, she in there?"

Valarie took another look.

"Mmm, can't see. She's in there, I'm sure. Just in a spot I can't see. Let's go in."

They entered the student council room and looked around. It was empty save for two people. One was Madison, of course. It was the other person that was surprising. Harper. These two girls were sharing a lunch, with one feeding the other fries to the other. The sound of the door opening got their attention. All four girls stared at each other for a few moments. All blushing.

"Heeey..." Madison said slowly. "You, uh, you didn't say you were coming."

"I texted you." Valarie said, her gaze turned toward the floor.

Madison checked her phone and did indeed find a message from Valarie.

"Ah. So you did," she remarked. "Well, I was preoccupied."

"Got it...sooo, we'll just be leaving then and catch you another time."

"No, it fine. Come sit. What brings you here?"

"We're here to ask you a question," Valarie said, sat across Madison. "About the ship."

"I know a fair bit about this big thing. What is it you want to know?"

"Could there be a tank somewhere on this ship?"

Madison blinked at her.

"A...tank?"

"Yeah! What do you think? Is there a chance?"

"A _chanc_e?" Madison repeated in near disbelief. "This school has never operated a tankery team in all of its existence. I sincerely _doubt_ that a tank would just be lying around here."

Valarie thought for a few moments, tapping her fingers rhythmically on the table.

"How old is this ship?" she then asked.

"Thirteen years old. First launched in 2000."

"Thirteen years is a long time. A lot can happen in little over a decade."

"True."

"So, here's what I'm thinking. You take me and my crew to explore the interior of this ship."

"...To look for a tank that most definitely not exist?"

"Hey, who knows what we'll find down there. And if we don't, I'm sure there is stuff down there you want to show us anyway."

"Can we even go down there?" Emma interjected.

"We can to an extent," Madison answered. "There are of course some forbidden areas, but, we can explore a good part of the interior. And they are some things I do indeed want to show off."

"Great!" exclaimed Valarie. "After our meeting today, we'll go."

"Oooh, today?" Madison said with a wince. "Today is not a good day for me."

"Why not?"

"I got, uh, you know, plans," Madison explained awkwardly. She used her eyes to gestured toward Harper who has been sitting patiently as the team had their conversation. "Special plans."

It took a few good seconds for Valarie to understand. She grinned.

"Ah, I see. We can go tomorrow then. Will that work?"

Madison nodded.

"Yup. We'll go exploring tomorrow."

"Good. So, uh, we'll just leave you two alone now."

Valarie and Emma left the room. Outside, the pair talked as they headed to the familiar palm tree.

"Do you honestly think we'll find a tank on this ship?" Emma questioned

"It's worth a look," Valarie told her. "The IS-3 was found by Ray and his friends in some old garage. Tanks can literally be anywhere."

Emma chuckled.

"From junkyards to abandoned mines."

_Later_

Throughout the day, Madison has something to look forward too. For after the Mojave Rose team's meeting, she and Harper were going to hit the town together and do whatever seems fun. Was it a date? Ask both girls and they'd say no. Obviously, it was just a girl's night out that only consisted of two girls who will be by each other's side and hold hands in a clearly platonic manner. Yet, this totally-not-a-date was later and Madison was feeling impatient. Though she saw Harper earlier in the day and will see her later, she wanted to see her now. So, she went to the garage, nearly skipping the whole way there as her mood was as sweet as a fine apple pie. At the garage she waltzed in, the team paying no mind to her as she has become quite the frequent visitor. She went right toward the Jumbo, whose crew was in the process of performing routine maintenance. Her arrival was first noted by Haley, the girl grinning upon seeing her.

"She's in the turret." Haley told her, pointing at the tank.

"Oh? How do you know who I'm here for?" Madison asked in an attempt to feign ignorance.

"Well, Harper has been approaching me for relationship advice and your name sure does come up a lot. Ah, I'm sure its nothing though." Haley said with a wink.

Madison looked away to hide a blush.

"Well, that's news to me," she remarked. "I'll, ah, I'll be seeing her now."

"Of course. We'll give you two the privacy you need."

Madison shook her head as she carefully climbed on the Jumbo. The loader's hatch was open. Peering in, she saw Harper tending to the shells to ensure that they were secure in their stowage racks. Madison got in the turret, her movements notifying Harper of her presence. The two gave each other the warmest of smiles and got right to speaking with their hands.

_"Hi. How are you doing?"_ Madison asked.

_"Good,"_ Harper replied._ "Kinda slow. Not much happening today."_

_"Looking forward to later this evening?"_

Harper enthusiastically nodded.

_"Yes! Though it looks like you're the one whose more excited."_

_"Guilty,"_ Madison signed. She then took a look around the turret of the Sherman Jumbo that sparked her curiosity. _"How does this all work?"_

Seizing on this learning opportunity, Harper proceeded to explain to Madison all of the positions of the tank. First was her own. Harper showed her one of the ammo stowage racks and pulled out an AP round. She held it close to her chest as if it was a cherished stuffed animal. The look on her face a proud one. She passed the shell to Madison. In her hands, she felt the brass of the approximately twenty-five pound round. It was hefty but not terribly so. Harper then tapped her hands against the cannon breech.

_"Load." _she told her.

Madison hesitated for a moment, looking at Harper and back at the shell. She readied herself and slid the round into the breech, the sound of scrapping metal filling the turret. Once the round was far enough it, the breech snapped shut behind it, the noise startling Madison.

_"Ready to fire!"_ Harper reported

_"We aren't actually going to fire, are we?"_

Harper playfully shook her head.

_"Of course not."_

Harper operated the breech controls to get it open. the round was retrieved and returned to its place in the ammo rack. Madison was then gestured to the commander's position where she toyed with the vision devices. She pressed her face against one and was surprised how limited her field of view was. No wonder Valarie vastly preferred being out of the hatch.

Next was the gunner's seat. The gun sight was what Madison gravitated toward. She looked through it and saw the markings that helped the gunner make an accurate shot. Her hands were on the elevation and traverse controls that moved the gun. As the engine was off, the tank had no electrical power so she had to hand crank the turret. She moved it left, then right and felt powerful. Her fingers explored these cranks and noticed that they were bare. No trigger to fire the gun. She faced Harper.

_"How do you shoot this thing?" _she asked.

Harper pointed to the turret floor where two pedals lay beside the gun. Madison leaned in closer to examine these devices and looked confused.

_"These things?" _she asked. _"The pedals shoot?"_

Harper smiled and nodded.

_"Yeah. Right pedal for the main gun. Left pedal for the coaxial."_

Madison looked back at the pedals and placed her foot on the right on. She pressed on it and heard a loud click of the striker that would have fired a shell if the breech was ready with one.

_"Put pedal to the metal to fire some hot metal." _Madison joked.

All the positions in the turret were gone over, now all that remained was the two positions in the hull. The two girls got out of the tank and Harper led Madison to the driver's seat. Its hatch was opened and Madison got in. Before her were all manner of things that the driver had to tend to. First, her eyes laid upon the steering levers. She gripped them and moved them a little, and played with the brake and accelerator as well. She found it so much fun that she couldn't help but let out a laugh as she pretended to drive as if she was a toddler again. In her mind, Madison reasoned that with some practice she could become quite the Sherman driver.

On her left was the control panel that contained gauges and a switch that turned on the tank. One of the gauges was a speedometer that went all the way up to an extremely optimistic eighty miles per hour, another reported the engine RPM, oil temperature, a clock, and much more. If there was anything wrong with the tank, then the driver can just take a peek at the control panel to diagnose the problem. With that, there was one more position to go over. One that had no one assigned to it as in the sport of tankery, such a position is not as important to fulfill. The bow machine gunner. Out of all the positions, it was this one that looked the most clean as rarely has any of the Jumbo crew ever been in it other than performing maintenance on the transmission as this seat allowed the best access. Nonetheless, there was still a bow machine gun in its mount and maintained. The .30 caliber machine gun was ready to fire, its safety on, and extra ammunition stored securely nearby. Here, Madison inspected the machine gun and moved it around in its mount.

_"What is the point of machine guns in tankery?"_ Madison asked. _"They're more suited to dealing with infantry, but now we're talking about war. Not a sport."_

Harper pondered for several moments.

_"Mostly to look cool. Though, Ray, the co-captain, has made us practice with them a few times as like a harassment measure."_

_"I can definitely see them as annoying to be on the receiving end."_

_"That's the inside. Wanna know the outside now?"_

_"Oh yes, please."_

Harper continued to give Madison a tour of the Jumbo, the two girls greatly enjoying themselves. Elsewhere in the garage, at where the T-44 was parked, Emma, Heather, and Ashley were together and in the middle of a conversation. Valarie was nearby, but her attention was on her playbook making edits.

"She needs a break," Emma declared. "She needs time where she can just unwind and relax."

Ashley and Heather nodded in agreeance.

"Totally," Ashley said. "Just sleeping in would do her good."

"How do we go about convince her?" Heather added. "It'll take some effort to make her even consider a break."

"A week off will be good," Emma pondered. "Ray can take over no problem and Mrs. Redwood will for sure let her have a break."

"Yeah, Gabrielle can be really cool." Ashley added.

The other two looked at her funny.

"Are you on, uh, on first name basis with our instructor?" Emma asked.

"I like to think so. I've done a lot for her and her husband. Like, you know, committing a crime when I infiltrated the ATA offices at the convention and got some incriminating memos to blackmail them."

"You had help." Heather reminded.

Ashley hugged them both.

"And I can't ask for better accomplices! If I wanna rob a bank, you two will be the first people I call."

"Oh, you're such a comedian." Emma remarked.

"So...about Valarie." Heather said.

"Right. We'll all go up to her. Follow me lead."

The three girls walked to where Valarie was and formed a semi-circle around her. Valarie stopped working on her playbook and look at her crew with some suspicion.

"Hey," she said a bit awkwardly. "What's all this?"

"Think of this like an intervention. Kinda." Ashley said.

"We all appreciate what you do, Valarie," Emma told her. "The whole team does. You are the absolute best person for the job of tank commander and team captain. Your dedication and passion is what we love. And what we're about to ask you is born from our love for you. Please, take a break."

"A break?" Valarie echoed. "No, no. I'm fine. This is what I love to do."

"People who love their jobs take breaks every now and then, you know," Heather added. "My parents love their hospital jobs, but after long shifts of them working a full week, you bet they'll welcome a break."

"All we're asking is you take a week off." Emma said.

"A...week!?" Valarie exclaimed. "So much happens in a week! We don't even know where our next match is and that info could drop at any time and I want to be ready for it!"

Emma walked up to Valarie and placed her hand on her left arm. She rubbed gently on the spot where was injured.

"This is a wake-up call, Valarie," Emma said softly. "Please, for me, take a break."

Their hands found each other and were held tightly. Valarie took a deep breath.

"Alright. I will. I'll a day off, not a week. I'll not come in for tomorrow's meeting."

"Oh come on, Valarie," Ashley remarked. "You're just gonna take a meeting off? That's not enough. Take this Saturday's practice off instead."

"Woah, practice? No, I _have_ to be here for our practices. I got to oversee it all."

"Ray can do that and he has done so before." Heather recalled.

"I dunno," Valarie said as she look away. "Having our tank with one less crew member will just make practice harder for you."

"Hmm," Ashley hummed as she glanced around the garage. Her eyes laid upon the Jumbo with Madison and Harper still talking. "Hold that thought."

Ashley left and went off to the Jumbo. She returned quickly with Madison in tow, who looked a bit confused. Ashley then took of Valarie's helmet and placed it on Madison. The T-44 crew looked at what she has just done.

"Oh my god," Heather remarked. "That can work. It really can."

"With the uniform she'll be virtually indistinguishable." Emma added.

"Yup!" Ashley said with some joy. "Madison, because she is Valarie's half-sister, can go in her place as the two look that much alike. Same height. Same face. Same voice, et cetera. The crew performance of the T-44 will remain unchanged."

"You guys are being serious?" Valarie said in near disbelief. "Just pretend Madison is me?"

"With her acting as you, practice can go as normal while you can just stay at home and relax."

"I...I don't know." Valarie said with hesitation.

"Valarie," Madison then said as she finished adjusting the helmet. "I've been in a lot of plays. I can act and I am more than willing to help you out."

With all eyes on her, Valarie entered into a deep thought. Doing so, the temptation of having practice off tasted sweeter and sweeter to a point that it soon became irresistible. They were right. Absolutely right. She finally nodded.

"Okay," Valarie said. "I'll take practice off and Madison can go as my doppelganger, I guess. I'm genuinely curious such a thing can be pulled off."

"Oh I just gotta act like a tank addict and your team wont suspect a thing."

Valarie grinned at her.

"You'll have to do a lot more than that. Before practice, I'll give you what you need to act like me."

"Oh man," Ashley said all giddy. "Saturday is gonna be _fun_."

The meeting that day came to a close and the team were dismissed. Among all the people heading backing to the apartment complex was one group in a celebratory mood. Ray, his friends, and Natalie were all together to celebrate his birthday as today, he was now eighteen. Before they all went to his apartment, Ray went to fetch his little archeology experiment. The pot of garum that he had left fermenting for a month. With fish sauce in hand, they all met in his apartment. Ray set down the pot on a table before them all and smiled.

"An archeology experiment you can eat is my kind of experiment," he remarked. "Fish. Herbs. And a whole lot of salt."

Ray opened pot, producing a distinctive popping sound and filled the air with a strong odor that rushed out. Everyone took a step back as they got used to the smell of fermented fish.

"Wow...that's powerful." Cesar remarked.

Ryan went up and look into the pot. He cocked his head to the side.

"Fish chunks in some brown liquid. I don't know what else I expected...and man that smell!"

"It sure is something, huh?" Ray said. "There is one last step before it is ready though."

From a kitchen drawer Ray retrieved a strainer and poured the garum through it. The larger chunks of fish was caught by the strainer, with the remaining liquid poured and collected in a wooden bowl. It was brown in color and thick. They all looked at the sauce with various levels of trepidation.

"So. We just eat it now?" Jeremy asked.

"Not yet. It's a sauce and sauce goes with things. This morning, before school, I prepared bread in a similar way the Romans did along with getting some last minute ingredients. The bread will bake as we get dinner ready. Let's get right to it."

Ray and his group of chefs proceeded to work in the kitchen. The first meal involved eggs. Ten eggs were fetched from the fridge and placed in a pot of cold water on the stove, where it was then brought to a boil. As these eggs boiled, pine nuts, which were soaking in water overnight, were dried and pounded to fine powder in a mortar. Pepper, honey, and a bit of the garum were mixed with it producing a fine sauce that had a genuine nice smell to it. After a few minutes, the eggs were removed from the water and had their shells carefully removed. These soft-boiled eggs were plated and had the pine-but sauce draped over them.

The next dish kept with the seafood theme first started by the garum; seasoned mussels. Another pot of water of put on the stove, brought to a boil, and a few dozen mussels were dumped in to cook. As they cooked, the seasoning was added to the water which consisted of more of the garum, one chopped leek, a handful of cumin, and a half a cup of some cooking wine. Just a few short minutes was all that was needed to cook the mussels just right where they were then placed in a large bowl next to the soft-boiled eggs.

"Now this," Natalie said with a proud smile. "Now this a meal fit for an emperor."

"I can almost not smell the fermented fish anymore," Cesar commented. He rubbed his hands together. "I want those mussels first."

"Hold on now," Ray said to them. "Got one more thing to prepare. It'll be quick."

Fresh cheese from the fridge, herbs, salt, oil, and some vinegar were all brought together in a mortar and mashed forming a cheese spread, it was white with a hint of green in appearance and smelled divine. The moment Ray placed the spread on the table, the oven dinged, the bread was ready. It too was brought out and finally all of their work was done. Ray look at the meal that they all prepared and was filled with an immense amount of pride and excitement.

"Thank you guys for helping me create this Roman-style dinner. I know it's a bit weird, but I appreciate it so much."

"How is this weird?" Ryan questioned. "How can food that looks this good be considered weird?"

Ray blushed a little.

"Well, we all did a good job here."

"So, can we enjoy the fruits of labor now, birthday boy?" Natalie said in a tease.

"Of course! Worst thing we can do is let this all get cold. First, the garum."

"Umm. How about those eggs? Or mussels? That cheese spread looks pretty good too."

"What, you scared, Nat?" Ray said, his eyes matching hers.

Natalie took it as a dare.

"No. No I'm not," she said as she sliced a piece of bread and dipped it into the garum. "I'm not scared at all. I love fish sauce if you didn't know."

She placed the bit of bread soaked with the fermented fish sauce into her mouth and took one bite and her eyes widened. The overwhelming strong flavor of the sauce completely surprised her. It took a lot of strength to hold it down.

"...That...was great. Loved it." Natalie said then promptly downed a glass of water.

Ray tasted the garum and winced a little.

"Definitely an acquired taste. Way better as a sauce, mixed in with all other flavors."

The group settled down and had their meal together. As they ate, they chatted and laughed the evening away. In time, all the food on the table was gone and thoroughly enjoyed. It was well into the evening at this point and the group just sat contently at the table.

"I can't ask for a more better birthday dinner surrounded by better people." Ray said with a pleased sigh.

"Well, how about dessert?" Natalie suggested playfully.

"Oh I wish, but making a dessert in addition to everything else would've taken much longer."

"Who said anything about preparing anything?" Natalie said as she nodded toward Ryan. He got up and left the apartment and came quickly back with a box. It was laid on the table and opened. Within was a tres leches cake. A sponge cake delightfully soaked in three kinds of milk. Sliced strawberries lined the rim. Upon seeing the sweet treat, Ray showed a grand smile.

"Not some Roman-style cake," Ryan said. "But hey, as long as it tastes good, eh?"

Ray was silent for a moment as he looked over the cake.

"My mom would make tres leches whenever it was my birthday," he then looked toward Natalie. "Did you know?"

"All the little things you say, I remember," Natalie said warmly. She went over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "Happy Birthday, Ray."

"Um, don't expect a kiss from any of us," Jeremy said. "But, ah, happy birthday man!"

"Thank you all," Ray said. He reached for a plate. "Now, this cake is better enjoyed when shared."

_Thursday_

Throughout the day, Valarie had exhibited an undeniable eagerness. If she had the power to speed up time, she would use it without a doubt to skip to later today. Alas, she was without this godlike ability much to her disappointment. So, she had to power through the day, eliciting familiar feelings of days long gone past. During school, she had met up with Madison to confirm their exploration of the ship and to elaborates upon the more finer details. Again, Madison told Valarie that the chances of finding any sort of armored fighting vehicle was less than zero, but Valarie held on to a modicum of hope that there very well could be one lying derelict on the ship, just waiting for its rediscovery and a road to a new life. After what felt like eons, the school day and the meeting was over. Valarie and her crew quickly went to their apartments, changed, and met with Madison back outside.

"So, we're going tank hunting I take it?" Ashley asked.

"No, no, no," Madison said. "We're going to just explore more of the ship. Take a look at the interior."

"Buuut we could." Valarie then remarked.

"Oh yeah, we could," Madison said with a sigh. "I bet it's right next to the Holy Grail."

"Wouldn't that be something," Heather commented. "Now, ah, how do we get _into_ the ship?"

Madison twirled around to face down the street.

"Follow me I'll lead you all to an entry point."

The T-44 crew followed her down the street, passing a few blocks when they arrived at a building that seemed off. Its outside looked like a store but the windows were tinted so extremely that they couldn't see through it. Madison opened the door to this 'store' and they were presented with an elevator that was situated on the wall opposite of them. Two stair wells were to their left and right, each for upward and downward traffic. In the middle of the room was a man behind a desk. Madison went up to him.

"Hello. They're new," she said, gesturing to the T-44 crew. "I want to show them the inside of this big ship."

"You the know drill," the man said. "Stay out of restriced areas."

"Of course."

The man handed her five passes and the group continued. They all piled into the elevator.

"We need like some kind of permission to be down here?" Emma questioned.

"Yes. The school wants to control the amount of people who want to take a look inside the ship. It isn't spacious down there as it is topside. Fire and crowded spaces do not mix at all. Some school ships learned that lesson the hard way."

"...Oh."

"Alright, so what's with the building then?" Ashley asked.

"All the entry points in this ship are located within false buildings as to not detract from the asthetics of the town. Inspired by how LA hides their oil rigs."

The elevator travelled a number of floors down almost to the bottom. When the doors opened the girls were in a metal hallway with pipes on the ceiling and walls. Yellow lights illuminated the area. Madion faced toward on direction.

"Let's head this way. Some interesting stuff over there."

They followed her down the hallway, their footsteps on the metal floor echoing throughoutf. There was this ambiance of heavy machinery at work seemingly coming from all directions. At the end of this hallway was a heavy door that required some effort to open. They were now on a catwalk in a wide open area. Below were crates, boxes, and all manners or storage devices piled high and expand to as far as the eye can see.

"Supplies," Madison explained. "To keep thousands of people satisfied and to keep the businesses on the ship stocked to serve said people. This is just one of a few mass storage areas."

Valarie leaned over the railing to take a good look at the area blow. She scanned every corner and soon relented.

"Hmm, most likely not down there."

"Oh, there's a tank down there."

Valarie instantly turned toward Madison.

"_Where._"

Madison pointed to a crate at random.

"I bet that one has ton. You know, those plastic model kits?"

Valarie shot her a glare.

"Funny."

The girls moved on and entered another hallway. Here, they passed by people that operated this ship, wearing uniforms that was white in color with epaulets on their shoulders. Emma noticed that the people they passed were all clearly adults and that made her curious.

"Hey Madison, I heard that some ships allowed students to help operate the ship in exchange for free tuition for school. Does Catalina do something like that?"

"Mmm, some do. We don't," Madison answered. "All the people we passed in those uniforms are the ones who operate the ship, they handle the most important aspects of the ship with one notable exception. Those people are part of the Merchant Marines."

"Merchant Marines, hmm?" Valarie remarked. "All ships are operated by them?"

"All United States school ships, mandated by law, are to have their core duties fulfilled by members of the United States Merchant Marines. All American school ships are also part of the U.S Merchant fleet."

"Interesting," Heather noted. "What is that notable exception?"

"Ah, we'll get to that when it's appropriate."

The group walked on as Madison continued to lecture them of all the places they were passing by. A area filled with enormous tanks that held fresh drinking water which was continually replenished by rain water collectors dotted on the surface of the ship and by a desalination plant that took in water from the ocean the vessel sailed upon. Another section of the ship had several acres of farmland that provided the ship with fresh fruits and vegetables. Strong powerful lights shined upon the farm that was superbly fertilized to encourage the best crop yield. They passed by many things that all contributed to making the ship as self-sustatining as it can. Valarie was impressed by all that she saw, but there was a growing disappoint in her. There was no place that they saw where a tank could potentially be. The group walked hallway after hallway where then, Madison stopped abruptly, nearly causing the rest to collide with her. Ahead of them, at the end of a hallway, was a door that was incredibly reinforced. Above the door was a large bright yellow sign that displayed the ever-familiar and intimating trefoil symbol in black. Below the symbol in bold letters made what laid beyond the door clear.

_"RADIATION WARNING - ONLY AUTHORIZED PERSONEL BEYOND THIS POINT"_

"What the hell is over there?" Valarie asked.

"The nuclear reactors that make this ship move and powers most of the ship. Remaining power supplemented by solar and wind turbines," Madison explained. "Behind that door leads to a path to the reactors. Obviously, we are not heading over to see them."

"This that notable exception?" Heather questioned

"Indeed it is," said Madison. "Nuclear engineers operate those things."

"Is there other places to see?" Valarie wondered.

"Yes, one more big place."

They backtracked and headed down another hallway. On this path, there were the sound of machinary at work. It was a sound the group were already well accostumed too, but these sounds had something different about them. Valarie was captiavted by them as she focused hard to figure out what she was hearing. The general ambiant sound of being inside such a titantic vessel made listening closely a challenge. They walked for several minutes, with Valarie now ahead of the group. The sounds were growing louder and her pace quickened. The amount of focus she was dedicating to these sounds was like she was in a match. She walked even faster.

"Valarie," Madison said. "What's the rush?"

She didn't respond. Valarie turned her head to the side so that her ear was facing the source of the sound. Then, she just stopped. The rest followed suit and attempted to ask why but Valarie rose her hand to silence then. In the relative quiet, she heard it. What she hoped to hear.

The clattering of tracks.

Valarie didn't say anything. She just bolted. Madison immeidatley realized what made Valaire run.

"It's not what you think!" she exclaimed.

But to no avail as she was already too far from them to hear. The rest of the group had no other choice but to run as well to catch up to her. The sounds of these tracks become audible to them as they ran.

"God damn, maybe Valarie is right?" Heather remarked.

"They're not tanks." Madison replied.

When they caught up with Valarie, they found her against a rail looking down. They were on another catwalk. Below them was bulldozers scooping up plastic bottles and other items to dump them on a conveyer belt as wide a road so that they could be properly recycled.

"I thought..." Valarie said but her voice trailed off.

Madison placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I know. I know. But what you heard were those bulldozers. Recycling is a huge thing for this ship. So much so that we recycle pretty much anything. This is the plastics section."

"Hey, bulldozers can be cool." Emma said to cheer Valarie up.

Valarie smiled.

"They can be," she said. She felt dissapointed, sad even. As she looked at the working machines, what Madison just said soaked into her mind. "Say, do you recycle metal?"

"Oh yeah," Madison responded. "It's in a different section. We melt them down for newer purposes."

"Something like a forge? Oh, I want to see that."

"All you need to do is follow."

The section of the ship where metal is recycled was not too far from where they were, only neccessitating a short walk. There, they were in a large open area that was littered with discarded metal of all shapes and sizes. In a similar fashion to the plastics area, a large conveyor belt was in the vicinity along with bulldozers though today they were parked in the far side as metal recycling was not in current operation. On the catwalk, Valarie saw a ladder that went all the way down.

"Are we allowed down there?" she asked.

"Um. Well. I never been down there so I don't exactly know." Madison shared.

"It looks like no one is working right now," Ashley remarked. "It wouldn't bother anyone if we go down, hmm?"

Madison looked hesitant then gave a quick nod.

"Damn. Like I never broke the rules. Alright, lets go and take a quick look."

Each girl descended down the ladder, with Valarie the first one reaching the bottom. The T-44 set out to explore the metal scrap, them doing so brining up feelings of déjà vu.

"Time is a flat circle." Heather remarked.

"No kidding." Emma said.

Valarie looked around.

"I know a few thousand people live on this ship, but this seems like a lot of discarded metal. I mean, there must be hundreds of tons of the stuff in here."

"Our recycling methods are incredibly efficent," Madison said. "So much so that whenever we make port, people sell their refuse to use so we can process them to make useable things. A good chunk of the stuff here came from when we made port in Germany. Just waiting to be melted down."

"Cool. Now that forge..."

"Right. It's down there I believe."

The group walked down a cleared path with large, expansive metal piles flanking their route. Valarie glanced around to look at all the trash almost in an absentminded manner when her eyes caught something that ignited her curiousity. It was an engine and a large one at that. She knelt down to examine it closer as the rest joined her.

"Twelve cylinder and water cooled," Valarie determined. She rubbed a finger into one of the holes and smelled it. "Gasoline powered for sure."

"Old engines are discared here sometimes." Madison said.

"Hmm, this engine does look old but it still has some life in it. I can tell. With some maintance, it can run again."

"For all we know it's some regular car engine."

"Looks pretty big for a car." Heather noted.

"A boat then."

"This isn't from some boat," Valarie said as she continued to scrutinize. "This is actually two engines connected end-to-end."

"Wow really? God whatever this engine belonged to must be woefully underpowered and moved like a slug." Madison remarked.

Valarie looked at the floor around the engine and found something that made her grin.

"You know what class of vehicles tend to be underpowered?" she said as she bent over to pick up what she found. With a bang, she placed a roadwheel on the engine. "A tank."

The rest of the girls look at the roadwheel with amazement.

"I'll be damned," Madison said with a gasp. "Holy Hell, Valarie, you_ might_ be right."

Valarie turned to gesture to all the metal scrap.

"Somewhere in here, is a tank and I have a good idea of what it is judging from the roadwheel. It can't be far from its engine. Span out and find it."

They all complied, an exciting energy gripping them all. The girls were careful not to trip on the metal they were walking on as they searched as none were particularly interested in getting tetanus shots. To their fortune they did not have to look long. Amid the piles of metal was the object of Valarie's hope and desires. What the team most desperately needed. A tank.

"Oh thank god!" Valarie exclaimed as she rushed over to it. "Another moment and I would've been praying for a tank!"

"Man this is a big one. Like twenty feet long at least." Heather said.

"It's a Churchill." Valarie informed them all.

"Not in the best shape, it looks like." Emma noted.

"Mmm, missing some roadwheels and it has no tracks. Hull machine gun is gone too," Valarie said. Another look at the tank and she then learned that the turret was facing away from them. She walked around to examine the main gun and when she did, she let out a gasp. "Woah. Um. Okay. Kinda big issue with its gun."

She was joined by the rest and they all saw what she saw. The six-pounder cannon for the Churchill had its barrel split like a banana. Completely destroyed.

"That's unfixable," Heather said. "This thing will need a new gun."

"Round must've exploded right before it left the barrel," Emma reasoned. "Bet the crew got the shock of their lives."

"All you needed to do was replace the gun, why was this whole tank thrown away?" Ashley questioned.

"Ah, I know why," Madison declared. "Clearly this tank used to belong to some tankery team from a rich school and when the gun was destroyed, they just threw the tank away because they can just buy a new one."

"What makes you say that?"

"Maybe I used to have an old car. Maybe I ruined its transmission because I was just learning to drive a manual. Maybe I just bought a new one with an automatic."

"Interesting hypothetical."

"MmmHmm. Yeah totally."

The sound of Valarie climbing on top of the Churchill got their attention. She opened the commander's hatch and peaked inside.

"This is workable," she said. "Fit the engine, install new roadwheels and tracks, and a new gun will make this tank fit for combat again. Though there something I don't like about the Churchill. Its recessed gun mantlet. If the sun is in front of the tank, it will cast a shadow on the mantlet essentially painting a target. Anything that hits it will flat out knock out the tank and if not, will surely jam the gun."

"Well, whoever will be crewing this tank will just have to deal with it." Heather said.

Valarie looked at the turret for a few moments longer, then snapped her fingers.

"No...no they won't. When the Jumbo got its new gun, its old 75mm wasn't thrown away, right?"

"Nope," Emma said. "I saw it in our meeting today against the wall."

"Ah, perfect! We'll mount that gun to the Churchill!"

"We can do that? Just mount whatever guns we like on whatever tank? What's stopping us from mounting like a 105mm on the Super Pershing?"

"Because there isn't any historical basis. But for the Churchill there is! In the North African campaign, the engineering arm of the British Army was tasked with scrapping Sherman tanks that were knocked out of combat. One guy noticed that the 75mm guns were still usable. So, he proposed the idea of mounting that gun on Mark IV Churchills. It solved two issues about that gun; it how had a platform to fire more capable HE shells and the recessed mantlet was no more. They were designated Churchill NA 75, the NA being North Africa."

They all took a moment to look at their find.

"They'll let us take it, right?" Emma asked.

"Oh, I'll make sure they will." Madison assured.

"Another heavy tank for our roster," Heather said. "I'm sure it'll serve us well."

"For sure," remarked Valarie. She hopped off the tank and away from all the metal. "This day has ended perfectly. I feel so...calm."

The girls made their way out of the metal recycling area and returned topside. A new tank has been secured for the team, one that will both require repair and modification to get it fully functioning. September had only just begun and already was it starting strong. Locating a new tank put Valarie at ease, though even before she made it back to her apartment, already was she thinking about where the next tank could come from. She took a large breath. This was precisely the reason why Emma and the rest of her crew pleaded with her to take a break. Though she will only take practice off this coming Saturday, even just a day off could do wonders. A day of no tanks for a girl whose obsessed over them.

A day that will, of course, go according to plan.


	68. Chapter 68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doppelganger? I hardly know her!

_Saturday, September 7th 2013_

_Catalina's School Carrier_

_Atlantic Ocean_

Valarie arose in the predawn hours as she always does when Saturdays arrive. Her routine involved promptly getting dressed in her uniform and reviewing the agenda for the day. And though today she was reviewing the agenda and making edits here and there, she remained in her sleepwear of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. In bed, as Valarie looked over the agenda, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Emma get dressed in her her uniform and only felt a tinge of jealousy but soon ultimately realized that a break was indeed sorely needed.

"The last time you weren't at practice," Emma said, "it was because of—"

"Chemistry," Valarie finished. "Damn that class."

"Hey, you passed that class last semester. Now, you can forget all about atoms and how to balance chemical equations."

"Yeah, up until I go to college and have to take chemistry again for general ed. Ugh."

"Speaking of college, how you put any thought on where you want to go?"

"Umm," Valarie hesitated as she pondered. "I think I'll stick with my original plan of just going to the community college back home."

"You do know that Madison will happily pay for your education for whatever college you want? UCLA, USC, Cal Poly, Berkeley. And that's just the ones in California. Any college in the country. Or even ones outside of it. Money won't be an issue thanks to Madison, and since you are the captain of a tankery team that you led to victory in the nationals and doing well in the world tournament so far, that will for sure look good on a admissions letter. You're future is bright, Valarie. Undeniably so."

"What about my parent's future?"

"Hmm?"

"Their future is uncertain. Always walking on a thin line. At any time could me parents lose their jobs and lose our home. Dad's new trucking job is better than his old one but now by a whole lot. Sure, he's in a union now and has better protection but what can a union do if the company goes under and have to lay off all their employees? Not a damn thing. This uncertainly eats away at me and whenever I think about it, I feel sick. That's why I want to go to the community college. To be near them in case it all goes to hell like before. So I can help."

Valarie set aside her playbook and let out a breath. There was a shakiness to it as if she was about to cry.

"Explain this to Madison and she will help you," Emma suggested. "She'll most likely tell her mom what's up and arrange like a cash donation or something. 100,000 dollars isn't a whole lot to a well-to-do Hollywood movie director. But that amount of money for your parents can be life changing."

"It would. It so, so, _so_ would. But I know my parents. They wouldn't accept something like that. They want solve to their own problems, handle everything themselves."

"Just like you, huh?"

Valarie laid in bed and stared up to the ceiling.

"Yeah. I'm more like them than I thought," she paused to think. "The only way my parents would ever consider a cash donation is that if it came from me, their own daughter. It's just different that way."

"Don't they consider Madison their daughter too?"

"They do. They love her. But the fact of the matter is I've been part of their lives since day one and Madison hasn't."

"Oh...yeah."

Valarie sighed.

"I want to give them enough money for them to retire. They need a break more badly than I'll ever need one. But how do I get that much money...can I ever do that?"

Emma moved over to give her a comforting hug that made Valarie melt in her arms.

"Let's not have you full of worry on your day off."

"Gotcha." Valarie mumbled out as she rubbed her face.

A few moments later, a knock was heard at the door. Emma answered and in came Madison, ready to be Valarie's doppelganger. The previous evening, the girls were here in Valarie's apartment where Madison was given a crash course to learn as much as she can about the team. What was stressed more importantly than everything else was Madison knowing all the call signs of the team as if Madison called a tank by the wrong callsign, it could unravel the whole masquerade

"Oh, the energy I feel," Madison said, who looked clearly hyped up. "Just like moments before I go on stage for a play."

"This'll be the greatest test of your skills," Valarie told her. "Hope you've done a lot of improv because that is what you'll be doing today."

"Improv was my absolute favorite thing to do in my drama classes. Pretending to be you will be _very_ fun."

Madison went to the closed and put on Valarie's uniform. It fit nice and snug on her, much to Madison's delight. With the CVC helmet on her head, Madison presented herself to Valarie for an inspection. Valarie looked at her from head to tow and was stunned at the similarity, as if she was looking into a mirror. Though one thing remained to complete the look. Valarie removed the choker around her neck that her parents gifted her months ago and put it on Madison. And with that, she was now Valarie.

"Wow," Valarie gasped. "The part of playing me has been perfectly cast."

Madison blushed.

"Well, it helps when we're related." she said.

Valarie got her playbook and handed it to Madison, who held it tightly. She knew just how important it was to her.

"The agenda is written in there," Valarie told her. "Follow it and you'll have no problems."

"And you, my dear sister, will be relaxing all day."

"Yes. Of course."

With a nod, Madison and Emma proceeded to head out the door, though before fully leaving, Emma turned around for a moment.

"Valarie, remember that this is your day of relaxation. So, don't do anything tank related. Don't go online to read about the tournament or search for the team's next tank. Don't go on the radio to listen to that tankery show. In fact, don't do anything related to military vehicles."

Valarie rose one hand and placed her other over her heart.

"I solemnly swear."

They smiled and shared a brief kiss. The door closed and now Valarie was alone in her apartment. A finger was on her chin as she thought what do on how to start her day off. Her mind led her to the bathroom where within was a bathtub. A very nice bathtub. She checked the drawers of the sink and saw some bath bombs. She smiled.

"Oh yeah. This is gonna be _good_."

~Line break

On the walk to the garage, Emma and Madison were joined by Heather and Ashley. All the girls looked giddy and very much looked forward to practice today to see if Madison could really pull this thing off.

"Man, with the uniform you look just like her." Ashley noted.

"It's uncanny, really." Heather added.

"If it's convincing to you guys, then the rest of the team will be none the wiser. Though, to be on the safe side, any little quirks about Valarie I gotta know to to better sell the switch?"

"Oh, just act like you have no idea about sex is and you'll be alright." Heather said with a small grin.

Such humor from an otherwise reserved girl made it more funnier. Their walk to the garage was brief and they soon arrived. The girls were early, with only a few other members of the team arriving before them and in the process if prepping their tanks. Also in the garage was the new acquisition; the Mark IV Churchill. Madison had made the necessary arrangements to moving the tank from the metal recycling area to the garage, saving it from a fate of it being scrapped and melted down. It was a trivial affair as Catalina technically already owned the tank when it purchased the metal refuse pile it was a part of. The school then donated the Churchill so now Mojave Rose could rightfully and legally claim it was theirs. Currently, the tank was still in a dilapidated state. Tracks and some of its roadwheels were missing and it's engine was not in its proper place and was placed next to it. It'll need some work before it's ready to be mounted back in the tank. Then there was the destroyed six-pounder. It was beyond repair so a replacement was necessary, with Valarie already having a replacement in mind. These were the issues that people could presently see. The Churchill would need a thorough inspection to log every problem it has and repair it so that it can get back in shape

As such, the new tank will not be participating in practice for a whole other day will need to be dedicated for its repair. Besides, they don't even have a crew for it and won't get them until they make port. Wherever that port may be.

Those that were at the garage stopped by the Churchill to look at the machine, primarily to gawk at the ruined gun and make jokes about it. One person, Gabrielle, stopped before the tank the longest. Madison noticed and sensed the first opportunity to test how well the masquerade can be. She went over to her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Redwood," Madison greeted. "What do you think of our latest arrival?"

"Damn good stuff," Gabrielle replied. "And I hear it was found on this ship? Of all places?"

"A serendipitous find, isn't it?"

"Serendipitous, huh? Man Valarie, you can talk real formal like when you want to."

Madison laughed. A bit nervously.

"Ha, well, um, this school has a bunch of rich kids, you know? They speak like they ate a dictionary for breakfast. It all rubs off on you."

"Oh I bet. So, what you're plan for that thing? Do what we did with the SU?"

"SU..." Madison echoed in thought. She had zero clue what Gabrielle meant by that. What the hell did the team do with the SU? What is the SU? Madison didn't know the full history of the team. It was impossible to learn all of that in the span of a single evening. She decided to wing it. "...Yes. But, ah, even faster!"

"Oh? Faster?"

Madison nodded.

"We'll get this thing ready for action faster than any team has done before. We'll break records!" Madison declared.

"That's one hell of a boast. The SU-100 took all of Saturday to repair and its gun didn't need to be replaced. For the Churchill, we'll need to mount a new six-pounder."

Madison then recalled what Valarie said about the Churchill when they found it.

"Actually, I was thinking that we use the old 75 for the Jumbo. Don't have to wait for delivery of a replacement gun and we can save some money too."

"Hmm," Gabrielle hummed. "You do know that the Churchill's turret will need to be modified to accept the Jumbo's 75. The turret face will have to be recut to be wide enough to mount the gun. There is only one tool that can cut through a tank's armor. A welder's torch. Valarie...you know why I can't do the cutting. When your mom came by for that welding job a while back, I nearly freaked out when seeing all those sparks. One of you guys will have to do it. As safe as possible."

"Don't you worry. Catalina has some welding classes so they'll happily loan the needed tools. And I'll make sure the job is done super safely."

"That's comforting to hear. Now, I got something for you."

Gabrielle went away for a bit and returned with a folder

"Match details," she informed. "Just arrived this morning. I printed it out for you."

Madison took the folder and opened it. She was presented with a map of the battlefield.

"Well, this is definitely a new environment for us." she remarked.

"Oh yeah, it's all very cool."

Madison went through the rest of the folder. All these details, Valarie would love to get her hands on it and dive in. She'll just have to wait. The folder was tucked in the playbook.

"Thanks. I'll go over it later. We got practice to do."

"Right you are."

Before walking away, Madison took a more thorough glance at Gabrielle.

"So, how far are you along?"

Gabrielle tapped her stomach proudly, the smile on her face huge.

"About four months now, though I don't know the exact number. I should know that, huh? Being an expectant mother and all. But hey! This is my first pregnancy so I'm still learning."

"How is pregnancy? Like, how does it feel?"

"I'm in constant pain."

"Oh..."

"But then I just tell myself that I'm carrying twins and it makes it all worth it. I want to hold my kids and I'll gladly suffer anything to do that."

Madison nodded in admiration.

"Well alright! Now we should really get practice underway."

"Yeah, yeah...oh, one more thing. Be sure to remind Madison to arrange the travel for the new crew for the Churchill. Mr. Redwood has already selected them."

"I'll be sure to remind her." Madison said with a grin.

With that, Madison returned to the T-44, its crew waiting with bated breath. Madison's smile was telling.

"You fooled her, didn't you?" Ashley asked

"She thought I was Valarie," Madison informed all pleased. "My god, I fooled her completely.

"You trick Gabrielle, you can trick the rest of the team."

"Let's see how well you do leading practice." Heather remarked.

The girls climbed aboard the T-44, with Madison being the most careful as she got into the commander's position. She placed her hands firmly on the handholds as the tank drove out of the garage, and with the team, headed for practice

* * *

The lights were dim, there was a strong and pleasant aroma of vanilla in the air, and the water was nice and hot. Valarie had prepared a bath for herself and now laid in the water, feeling completely relaxed and at ease. The bath bombs she found were used and create thick and foamy bubbles that graced the surface of the water. These bubbles were also the ones creating the vanilla scent that Valarie savored. What added to the tranquility was the radio. Keeping with Emma's wishes, she hasn't tuned to that tankery show, instead, had the radio playing a classic rock station, the genre of music that her parents favored. The music was on a low volume as to not disturb the calm that Valarie fostered.

_"This is just what I needed,"_ Valarie thought to herself. _"A day to myself to wind. This bath is doing the trick and them some."_

With how nice everything was, Valarie felt like she was bathing like royalty. The only thing missing was a nice cup of wine. Wine? Her genuine desire for an alcoholic drink made her laugh a little. A year ago, she'd never would've believe she'd become something of a drinker. Since her very first day of coming aboard Catalina's ship has she had her fair share of strong drinks and each time she did, she increasingly enjoyed the flavors. Just another unexpected benefit of tankery, she reasoned.

Valarie spent some time in the tub, soaking and soothing her skin in bliss, her muscles like jelly in every good possible way. Of course, she can't remain in the tub all day as her stomach began to rumble. With breakfast now a priority , she rose from the tub and dried herself off with a towel. Hanging on a hook on the wall was a bath robe, ivory white and looked amazing soft. She slipped into it and loved how it felt. Valarie left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen, she wondered what she would eat.

_"Hmm,"_ she thought in her mind._ "A day of relaxation means that I do as little work as possible. Cooking is a lot of work. Though...it doesn't have to be."_

A bag of pizza rolls was fetched from the freezer and placed in a toaster oven. As the tasty little morsels cooked, Valarie fixed herself a cup of coffee, which will have to due in lieu of wine, and now sat on the living room couch. Looking ahead was the TV, and under it a DVD player. The mood seemed right for a movie and as luck would have it, this DVD player came stocked with an assortment of movies of all genres to cater to as many people as possible. They were some war movies but they were brushed aside. She wanted something more lighthearted. One film fit the bill, Disney's _Robin Hood._

"It's been ages since I saw this movie."

The DVD was popped in and the movie began to play. Valarie reclined on the couch and exhaled a pleased sigh. Her day off was going swimmingly.

* * *

The periscope gave Madison a restricted field of view, which only served to further pile on her feeling of claustrophobia. Space within the T-44 was at a premium with the breech of the 100mm gun taking up most of the room. Inspiration Park was where they were along with the rest of the team. The agenda that Valarie had written out was being followed with the first thing on the list being shooting practice.

In position, the T-44 laid fire to targets at increasing distances. One at 500 meters. Another at 750mm meters. And a final at 1000 meters. Madison watched with amazement as Ashley loaded shell after shell into the breech. She could tell that the armor-piercing rounds were quite hefty just by looking at them and Ashley was handling the with the utmost efficiency.

"How fast can you load a shot?" Madison wondered.

"About seven seconds or so." Ashley replied.

Madison did some quick math in her head.

"That's about eight rounds a minute," she said. "Ever done that many?"

"Man, I dunno. I think only a few times in matches where the firefights get real intense though I can thank the adrenaline for that."

"Let's give it a go then, shall we?"

"Uhh, okay, okay."

"On my mark...Go!"

A round was grabbed from the tack and thrust into the breech. The trigger was pulled and the spent casing was automatically ejected and fell to the floor of the turret with a clang, small streams of smoke emanating out from one of its ends. Though before the spent shell would hit the floor, Ashley already had another fresh round in hand and reloaded the gun. And did it again. And again. Repeatedly for a full minute of nonstop firing before Madison said to stop. The fighting compartment was warm from all the shooting and in the air was the intense odor of vaporized powder. Once the minute was up, Ashley reclined in her position and was panting. Sweat was wiped from her forehead and she touched her forearms, which were starting to ache.

"And here I thought," Ashley said in between breaths. "That you taking Valarie's place would mean practice today would be easygoing."

"I figured that Valarie would appreciate that practice would remain as vigorous as usual." Madison said with a grin.

"You're doing a swell job. Damn will my arms be sore tomorrow."

The tanks around them continued to open fire, each shot made Madison jolt and forced her eyes to close momentarily. Emma noticed and couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"You look like Valarie. You can act like her, but only so much. She loves the sounds and feeling of cannon fire. You? Not so much."

"I, uh, I just gotta get used to it. That's all. " Madison replied.

"Better get used to gun fire fast," Heather then said. "People see you flinch and they'll start to get suspicious."

"I won't let that happen," Madison said all determined. "We're gonna shoot so much that I'm gonna get numb to it all," she reviewed the agenda and her eyes narrowed. "What is...bullet storm?"

"Oh!" Emma exclaimed. "Bullet storms is where one tank on the team gets shot at by the rest of the tanks that has coaxial machine guns. It's both a tactic and a way to build endurance to incoming fire."

"Perfect!" Madison said with a clap. "A bullet storm on us will get me used to all the shooting."

"That'll do the trick but I see a problem here," Ashley said. She took the playbook out of Madison's hands and read the agenda. She placed a finger on a line of text and read it aloud. "A bullet storm is to be done on _Sidewinder _so that the crew can further their understanding of what is is like to be on the receiving end of concentrated machine gun fire. It will also give them the opportunity to train themselves to maintain their concentration under fire in a controlled environment," Ashley looked up from the playbook. "Simply put, it'd be weird for us to go through a bullet storm 'cause as far as the team is concerned, everyone in this tank is already well used to being shot at."

Madison leaned back.

"Hmm," she hummed. Then she snapped her fingers. "I'll just be in tank with them when the bullets fly."

"Uh. That sure is an idea."

"Mmm, thank you," Madison readied the radio and cleared her throat. "All tanks, we're gonna do a bullet storm on _Sidewinder._ Form a semi-circle in front of them."

She switched off the radio and rocked happily back and forth in her seat.

"Oooh, I feel all official! Totally feel like a commander!"

"Don't let it all go to your head now," Heather. "It's just for today."

"Right, right. But damn will I enjoy this day."

As the team formed up, Madison hopped out of the T-44 and headed for the Type 97. She climbed upon the machine and knocked on the commander's hatch. It opened and out popped Aubrey.

"Hi, uh, watcha doing?" she asked.

"I'm gonna be with you guys during the bullet storm."

"Okay...why?"

"Ummm,ah...as a showing of, uh, solidarity."

"Alrighty," Aubrey said as she look down into the tank. "It's gonna be a real tight squeeze with you in here.

"We'll make it work."

Aubrey ducked down, with then Madison getting in. The fighting compartment of the Type 97 was incredibly cramped, with Madison pressed against the inner wall. Aubrey passed her the radio.

"Okay," Madison said. "Take aim and light us up!"

Once the last word left her lips, gun fire immediately erupted. A wall of hot lead descended on the Type 97, every bit of its hull and turret received a hit with bullets shattering upon impact or ricocheting in wild directions. From the outside, the tank was showered from sparks from all the bullets. For the people within, the volume of incoming fire was so thick that the individual bullet impacts were not hear, but rather it was a sustained sound. Like the roaring waves of the most fiercest sea. The cacophony of it all had a clear effect on the Type 97 crew, who were all wincing and had faces of great annoyance. But it was Madison who reacted more strongly. She was staring dead ahead, unblinking, her heart rate quickening, and her breathing short and fast. Her fingers twitched back and forth.

Though the Type 97 crew ere the nearest crew on the team, they have been shot at before so they were already on their way to getting used to the sensation. For Madison, it was a different story. She has never been shot at before. She never experienced this many loud noises in a quick succession all concentrated in one area. All this noise in such a tight space, her breathing grew faster. She hated this. Truly hated being shot at. Her hand trembling, she brought the radio close.

"Cea...Cease...cease fire, cease fire!"

The bullet storm halted and some semblance of calm was ushered in. Madison relaxed herself the best she could.

"Huh, you being here actually did something," Aubrey remarked. "I think we all would've freaked out if you weren't." she then noticed Madison's paleness. "Valarie? You okay?"

Madison breathed.

"I'm...super," she said. "We're all cramped in here. Packed like sardines."

"Yeah, it's not really comfortable. At all. Still, thanks for being here. We really appreciate it."

"Anytime. Now, I'm gonna head on out now and get as much fresh air as I can."

Madison scrambled out of the Type 97 and quickly returned to the T-44. There, the crew noticed she looked shaken and on edge.

"You're not okay, are you?" Ashley asked.

Madison let out a laugh that was tainted with anxiety.

"I learned something about myself today. Being shot at fucking _sucks._ It grates against my bones and is the purest form of torture for my soul."

"Ehh, I'm neutral to it."

"Same." added Emma.

"I actually feel the same way but only for artillery," Heather shared. "Everything else is fine."

"What's next on the agenda?" Emma then asked.

"Ah, let's see," Madison said as she checked. Her breathing was still partially agitated. "Mmm, off-road driving."

The T-44 suddenly lurched forward and drove into the forest.

"Gotcha!" Heather exclaimed. "We're rolling out!

* * *

Her mouth was on fire, lit ablaze. As if she just taken a bite of fresh magma spewing out from an violent volcano. It was painful but at the same time delicious. This was the nature of pizza rolls and Valarie happily ate them as she enjoyed her movie. She was still in the bath rob and by now her hair has dried sufficiently enough but she had no intention in getting dressed as there were no pressing need to. Practice won't be over for several more hours so the door for her apartment shouldn't be touched by anyone, leaving her alone to enjoy her day off.

It shouldn't be, anyway.

As she blew on a pizza roll to cool it down, the sound of rapid knocking grabbed her attention. She looked toward the door with some confusion. It can't be any of the team for they were at Inspiration Park. The knocks came again, this time much faster. With a sigh, Valarie stood up from the couch and went to the door. When it was opened, there was Alice, who looked out of breath as if she ran here.

"We got a problem." Alice informed

"What's wrong...and what do you mean 'we'?" Valarie asked.

"Something has come up that necessitated an emergency student council meeting. But, per the rules, without the student council president it can't proceed. Any decisions made will be deemed invalid by administration if Madison is not in attendance."

"You guys take this student council thing so seriously. The one back in Mojave Rose isn't this serious. It's super laid back."

"We take it seriously, Valarie. You should've seen Madison when she campaigned for student council president in her freshman year. God, she was relentless and indefatigable. When the results came in and she won, she cheered like she won the god damn presidency of the United States."

"Man I'd pay to see that. Wait, aren't like you the vice-president? Isn't that role for situations like these?"

"Oh, I just break ties. Other than that, I'm just a regular member of the student council."

"Huh. Okay. So, what's my part in this?"

"Well, Madison is needed to make the meeting proceed...and you sure do look an awfully lot like her."

Valarie saw where this was going.

"Oh, I see. You want me to act like Madison for this meeting to get rolling? Wow, what are the odds."

"I know what you mean. I'm aware of the whole plan of Madison taking your place for your practice for she told me about it. I guess you didn't expect to return to favor so soon, huh?"

"Yeah," Valarie said with a sigh. "So, what makes this student council meeting an emergency?"

"Viola wants an art exhibition."

"Is...is that all?"

"She wants it to happen Wednesday."

"That sounds way too soon."

"It is! This school has always had art exhibitions before, hell one was planned for later this month, she just wants it way sooner and different. If anyone else suggested this, I'd laugh in their face. But since Viola is the one asking, it's, well, you know, different."

"I see. Alright. What kind of exhibition does she want?"

"That's another problem. She hasn't specified. In fact, she told us to surprise her. If you didn't know, art is pretty god damn _broad!_"

Valarie noticed the increasing agitation in Alice's voice and placed her hands on her shoulders to give them sympathetic rubs.

"Calm down, Alice," she comforted. "I'll help you out here. I'll be Madison and go to this meeting. By the end of it, we'll have that art exhibition planned and ready for execution."

Alice took a huge breath.

"I needed to hear that, thanks," she walked in Valarie's apartment. "You need to get dressed in your school uniform."

"Gotcha."

Alice waited in the living room as Valarie went to her bedroom. A few minutes later, she reemerged now no longer in her heavenly bath robe but in her school uniform. Alice got real close to her and started to adjust Valarie's hair.

"Um." Valarie remarked.

"Need to get your hair just like Madison's. Woah...you got some gray hair?"

"Don't talk about it." Valarie said sternly.

"Okay, okay," Alice replied. She worked on Valarie's hair for a few more moments and stood back. She nodded. "Done. With me with you, it'll be that more convincing."

"Got it. So, when is the meeting?"

"Now. They're waiting for us."

The pair made their quick departure. Their walk to campus was brisk, with Valarie having to play catch-up as Alice was anxious to get back to the meeting as fast as possible. In one of the buildings on school grounds, they climbed the stairs to the top floor and when they were right before the door, Alice turned to face Valarie.

"Everyone is a bit stressed about all this, just to let you know," she informed her. "So they'll be on edge."

"Believe me. I know all about stress." Valarie told her.

The door was opened and the two walked in. Inside were all the members of the student council. The secretary, treasurer, historian, reporter, with the remainder being regular council members. Including Valarie and Alice, they numbered ten people in all.

"About time you showed up," remarked Sylvia, the treasurer. "Where was she?"

"In her dorm taking a nap," Alice answered on Valarie's behalf. "Gonna blame a girl for sleeping in on a weekend?"

"Let's just get a move on," said Effie, the secretary. "We need to get all this organized fast"

Valarie was subtly gestured by Alice to a chair that was at one end of a long table where everyone sat at. From where she was, the rest of the student council was before her, five on each side.

"Okay, you all know what's up," Alice began. "Viola, the German princess we've work hard on getting to attend here, wants an art exhibition on Wednesday. That means we have three days to get everything prepped."

Though people were in the know, they still groaned. It was so sudden.

"The first thing we need to figure out is the venue," Effie said. "Just where will it take place? We have general purpose auditorium that would've been a good choice but that is currently being occupied by a bunch of theater kids," she looked at Alice. "For the whole week."

Alice shrugged.

"We got a musical coming up and we got a lotta actors involved. Not everyone can rehearse on our usual stage so some go to the other auditorium to practice.

"Well, can you guys just not have a rehearsal for one evening?"

Alice leaned toward Effie.

"No. We need every minute to get ready. Besides, the theater director reserved the auditorium so we have all rights to use it."

"Damn theater kids..."

"What else then?" Sylvia spoke. "Where else can we host this exhibition?"

"Ugh! No Where!" exclaimed one of the council members. "Every place in this school that is big enough to host one is being used!"

"What about outside the school then?" Alice suggested.

"Ah, maybe. But that'll cost money as we'll need to rent it." Sylvia.

The council members feverishly talked among themselves as people threw out the first idea in their minds to find a solution. All the while, Valarie remained quiet. She leaned back in her chair with a finger on her cheek, thinking. She then rose her hand and one by one, the council members fell silent.

"I'll just toss an idea out there," Valarie said to them. "Why not use the art museum as the place to host the art exhibition?"

"They are already exhibits on display there." Effie informed.

"Then remove them."

"What? Remove them?"

"Those exhibits are already on a rotation, aren't they?"

"Well, yes."

"Then there shouldn't be any trouble to remove them and place them in temporary storage."

The members thought over the idea.

"There is a lot of things on display there," Sylvia said. "Clearing it out would take some time."

"With all of us and a couple more volunteers, we can clear that place quick. It can be done tomorrow."

Sylvia thought then slowly nodded.

"With a big enough team it can be done. Now, what will be on display?"

"Oh!" exclaimed one of the members. "How about we make it like a movie festival? Show off student-made films."

"The art museum is not the best place to play movies," Effie said. "Also, it's too early in the semester. No students films are ready to be played."

"Oh..."

"What about, ah origami?" a member proposed. "I've seen some people make some crazy stuff."

"Maybe," Alice said, her mind racing with thought. "We'll need a lot of origami exhibits to fill the museum up."

"We need to be more broad here," Effie told them all. "If we focus on only kind of art discipline, we'll be restricting our options and really struggle to fill the museum."

Again, all the members talked among each other as they discussed, nearly argued, over what to display in the museum. And like before, Valarie remained silent through all of this. Her only reason in being here was to adhere to the rules so that the meeting could properly proceed. What more, Madison was known among the student council to be more associated with theater and since you can't put a play on display, no one really pressed her for ideas. But she was thinking, wanting to help in anyway she can. Valarie cycled through possibilities in her mind and one thing kept coming up coming up repeatedly. A theme. Passion. An emotion that she has full of for a particular sport. She stood up, an act that grabbed the attention of everyone.

"Here's what we're gonna do," Valarie said, her voice filled with determination. "We'll establish a theme; passion. The only exhibits allowed are those made by students in their free time."

"In their free time?" Effie asked puzzled. "That's an odd requirement. Wouldn't it be best for students to submit work they've done for class?"

"Let me tell you something. When someone has passion for something, they do what they love every moment they are awake. They don't do it just to fill out an elective or just to get a grade, they do it because what they're passionate for resonates in their very soul and gives them a fulfillment nothing else can satisfy. They do their passion in all hours of the day, always on their mind, always a need to improve and perfect. They can never picture themselves without this passion, this fire within them that makes them who they are. This is what we'll show in the museum, what this art exhibition will be about. Labors of love."

The entirety of the student council all looked in her in silence for several long moments, each member processing what was just said. Alice then stood up from her chair and a huge smile appeared on her face.

"Perfect," she remarked with awe. "I'm with Madison!"

Sylvia and Effie joined them.

"I'm all fired up!" Sylvia exclaimed. "I'm on board!"

"Let's freaking do this!" Effie said in a near shout.

The rest of the student council gave their unanimous approval, getting a huge smile out of Valarie. She paced around the room with her hands behind her back.

"We're on a time crunch so a lot of things will need to happen at the same time to pull it off," she told them. "As already said, we'll need to clear the museum of its current displays to make room for the exhibition. Next, we'll need to get the word out far and wide. Flyers will be printed and posted on every wall, door, and locker so that every student knows what is going on. A committee will be formed to choose what submitted art gets to be on display."

Sylvia wrote it all down.

"Got it. We're gonna do this. An art exhibition from idea to reality in mere days." she said all excited.

"Damn right we are. It'll be an event to remember."

* * *

It was now the afternoon and the team was having a break. The T-44 crew were out of their tank and laid against a nearby tree. Out of all of them, Madison looked the most tired. Practice have begun to take a toll on her with all the shooting, driving, and all sorts of other activities per the agenda Valarie had created. It was a lot to take in, especially for someone who has never actively participated in tankery practice before. And, since Madison was to act as not only the T-44's commander, but the overall team captain, it was a baptism of fire as she had to juggle a whole host of responsibilities that dwarfed her own as student council president, which in itself was pretty weighty.

Madison was eating a sandwich that Heather has packed for them all. As she ate, she thought about the day thus far. It's been tough for her, undoubtedly. But at the same time she was enjoying herself. She looked toward the sky and saw the sun high and bright. The team have been at Inspiration Park for several hours now and there was still more hours to go before practice would come to a close. She could feel a drowsiness coming on and with the rest of the day ahead of her, stood up and had a walk around to fight her weariness.

The nearest tank to them was the VK, with Marielle and two of her crew on top of the engine deck doing some kind of work. Once Madison drew near enough, a member of the crew on the ground, the loader Selena, went up to her.

"Hey Valarie, you mind helping us out?" Selena asked with her hands brought together. "We got some engine problems."

"Uh, sure."

Madison approached the rear of the VK and joined Marielle and the others on the engine deck. The hatch that allowed access to the engine itself was open and all of them were peering in as it idled. It sounded sickly.

"Sooo, ah, what's the problem you guys have?" Madison asked, doing her best to sound confident.

"When we were driving earlier, we all could feel that the VK's performance was lacking. Like it had some of its horsepower removed or something. Our Baby Panther is acting fussy again."

Madison laughed.

"Fussy, huh? Have you tried patting him on his back so he could burp?"

"Ha...wait. Hold that thought."

Marielle leapt off the tank and looked at the engine's exhaust at its rear. She saw that there was only the most scantest of fumes billowing out.

"Cassie, get in your seat and give this thing max revs!"

Cassie quickly got in the VK's driver's position and slammed on the throttle. A mass of thick black fumes were jettisoned out of the exhaust, with the engine now roaring with health.

"Yes!" Marielle cheered. "A burp was just what we needed! Thanks a bunch Valarie!"

"Uhhh, yeah, don't mention it!"

Madison walked off and hid the bewildered look on her face.

_"I'm really gonna bullshit my way through this."_ she thought to herself, all pleased.

She then found herself near the ACIV, where Robin waved her down. When the two were close, Robin grabbed a sabot round from off the ground and held it in a way that Madison could see it all.

"Mind explaining something to me?" Robin asked.

"...Yeah. Of course."

"When we fire our sabot, we can't see a tracer, making my job of observing the fall of shot rather difficult. Did this ammo ever had tracers on them?"

This was what Madison feared. A technical question. If Valarie was here, she would have spoken at length with Robin on the subject. But alas, she wasn't. Madison grabbed the sabot shell and pretended to examine it closely. She hummed curiously to better sell her performance. All of this was to give her enough time to create some kind of explanation that Robin would find believable.

"Well obviously," Madison then said as she handed back the round. "Sabot is just built differently. A tracer was not a part of its design."

"But that's stupid though. A tracer makes everything easier and it can't be too, like, hard to attach it to the ammo."

"It is stupid. Though, I'm afraid you're just gonna get used to it."

Robin let out a sigh.

"Yeah. Guess I do. Still, not gonna complain about 256mm of penetration at 500 meters."

"Nope not at all."

Madison continued her walk around the area and felt sufficiently alert now, so she made her way back to the T-44. Along the way, she passed by the Jumbo and caught a glance at Harper, who was popped out of the loader's hatch. Madison smiled to herself as she looked at the girl, her heart fluttering. Harper caught sight of her and tracked Madison as she walked, her head tilted to the side as it was filled with curiosity. Within a short minute, Madison returned to the T-44 crew who were still lounging by the tree, their lunch now done.

"Fun walk?" Emma inquired.

"It sure was something," Madison replied. "Talked to more of the team and did some captain-like things. We're gonna pull of this masquerade."

The sound of approaching footsteps got all of their attention. From behind the T-44, Harper appeared as she had followed Madison. She walked up real close to her, her eyes narrow as she scrutinized the girl before her. Harper paid special attention to Madison's face and was mere inches away.

"What is she doing?" Emma wondered.

"She's suspicious," Heather determined. "You spoke too soon, Madison."

"What tipped her off?" Ashley questioned.

Knowing that Harper could read lips, Madison remained silent. Harper then took a few steps back, her face still curious, and made motions with her hands. Everyone there knew that she was signing, but what exactly Harper was saying they had no clue. With the exception of one.

_"Madison?"_ Harper signed.

To maintain the facade, Madison had to pretend she knew nothing of sign language. She made a 'x' symbol with her arms as she shook her head. Harper stopped signing and looked confused. For a brief moment, she thought that perhaps the girl before her was Valarie and that she was mistaken. But then, she took another look on Madison's face and was once again unsure. As she stood there, a solution came to her mind. She knew what exactly she had to do to find out for her. Harper made a brief glance toward Emma and smiled, where then, she pulled Madison in close and gave her a kiss. Once they parted lips, Harper remained close to Madison as she looked toward the T-44 crew to gauge their reaction.

The stunt shocked them. Heather, Ashley, and Emma all had their mouths agape as they tried to process what they just witnessed. For Emma, she faced a struggle. She didn't know if she should fake some furious outburst in order to keep with the masquerade or something else entirely. But in the end, she did nothing. The masquerade was broken.

The kiss left Madison in a daze, as if her mind refused to accept that what has happened did indeed occur. When the soft touch of Harper's hands graced her cheeks, she returned to reality. Their eyes matched.

_"How did you know?"_ Madison signed, giving up all pretense she was Valarie.

_"By the way you walk. There is a prep to it that when Valarie walks, isn't there."_

Madison was surprised to learn that Harper could notice such a detail about her, a detail that she herself has never considered before.

_"Impressive,"_ Madison told her. _"That kiss. Were you genuine?"_

Harper answered by giving her another kiss. When the kiss broke, the two girls hugged and soon reclined by the tree with the rest of the T-44 crew.

"Okay. That just happened." Ashley remarked, still fairly stunned.

"Um. Yeah. She called our bluff." Heather added.

"She looked at me right before she kissed her," Emma said. "I...I don't know how I feel about that."

"Well I sure know what I'm feeling." Madison said with a huge smile.

"I guess today isn't a total success then," Ashley said. "You didn't fool everyone."

"Oh I disagree," Madison remarked. "Today was a smashing success."

_Later_

It was the late afternoon and practice had finally come to end. The team were dismissed and all moved quick to put away their tanks to get home as soon as possible. Emma and Madison were together as they headed to Valarie's apartment. As the pair entered, they saw Valarie in her school uniform, on the couch and watching a movie.

"Why are you all dressed up?" Madison asked. "This was supposed to be your day off."

"It's a whole thing. Alice will fill you in." Valarie replied.

"Ugh. Okay. I'm too tired to think about this right now."

Emma and Madison sat on the couch with Valarie.

"How was practice?" Valarie wondered.

"Oh, it was great," Emma said. "Madison nearly had everyone fooled."

"Nearly?"

"One person saw right through it," Madison said with a grin. "On a related note, I'm now dating a member of the team."

"Oh my," Valarie said with a blush. "That's great!"

"Thank you. So, how was your day?"

"Good. Calm. It's what I needed," Valarie said. She then saw her playbook in Madison's hands. She pointed at it. "I do want that back now."

"Of course. Hey, the next match details in there."

Valarie let out a gasp as she opened her playbook to find the folder that contained the match details. She sought after and found the map of the battlefield and already began to study it.

"Now this is a new area of engagement." Valarie remarked.

Emma leaned over to look at the map and noticed how white it was.

"Is that snow?"

"No, it's a salt flat. A huge one."

"Where is it?"

Valarie looked around and saw words inscribed on the top of the map.

"Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia." she read aloud.

"Oh, Bolivia!" Madison exclaimed. "Beautiful place!"

"Who are we going against? That's the main question."

Valarie went through more papers and found the info in question. Her eyes squinted.

"Good lord, how the hell do I pronounce this?"

.

.

.

_236 miles away_

_Atlantic Ocean_

_The school carrier of Dunant Vorbereitungsuniversität Zürich_

On board a sleek and modern school carrier, a pair of girls were taking a stroll in a large garage nestled in an area of the ship that contained an artificial wilderness. Both of these girls were in their uniforms; solid blue in color with a brown belt, black boots that reached just below their knees, flat white collars, and black berets worn proudly on their heads. The girls stopped before a vehicle and admired it.

"Can you believe it, Emilia?" one of the girls asked. "That even after all this time, looking at this vehicle still brings a smile to my face."

"I can believe it, Lya," Emila responded. "I feel that awe too."

"It's amazing, isn't it? That even with our modifications to the thing it's tankery legal."

"Well, considering it's was once an open-topped vehicle, in order to make it safe, certain exceptions were granted that aren't completely historical. But, necessary."

Lya climbed upon the vehicle in question and sat upon the gun, which was an 88mm. She had a happy look on her face.

"Remind me, how many of our Nashorns are we fielding for our upcoming match?" Lya asked.

"Three." Emila answered.

"And, there are others if I do recall correctly."

"You sure are forgetful as the team's captain."

"Oh, I'm just playing around."

"Right. Just in case you did forget and just lied to save face, I'll just say what they are. Two 105mm guns on self-propelled—"

"Ah, ah, ah," Lya interrupted. "Use the simpler name."

Emilia sighed.

"..Two...Dicker Max heavy tank destroyers. And one Sturer Emil."

"Wonderful!"

The Nashorn, Dicker Max, and Sturer Emil Dunant's tankery team possessed are all tank destroyers that were open topped, but to make them legal for tankery matches, they were modified to be closed top. A sheet of steel was welded over their openings to ensure the safety of the crew. For the commander's benefit, the cupola of a StuG III was welded on these steel sheets. These modifications made the crews safe, but it came at the expense of their fighting ability. The sheets made the fighting compartments cramped. Its effect was most prevalent on the reload rate, with Dunant's Sturer Emil at best only managing two rounds a minute. What more, these sheets restricted the gun depression severely as the cannon breeches would collide with the ceiling, halting further movement. Still, such changes and the costs they inflict still make them worth it as it means that Dunant had more heavy duty guns to bring to action. Emilia and Lya walked around the team's garage for a few more minutes, gazing at the team's tanks, which were entirely composed of German armor. Before they left for the day, Lya stood to look at another trio of open-topped vehicles. They too would be taking part in the upcoming match and they too were in similar configurations to the tank destroyers.

"Oh, how lovely you are my fierce bumblebees."


	69. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologies for the lack of uploads recently. The last two weeks made time for writing scare, especially since I was away from a few days for Thanksgiving ( Which I hope you all had a good one! )
> 
> I am also juggling two other writing projects that have taken up my time. I hope to have these projects out something during the week.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sunday, September 8th 2013

A day off did her good, her batteries recharged. Though Valarie had to fill in for Madison unexpectedly, she did actually find enjoyment going to that emergency student council and playing her role in it as it was different from her day to day life. Though she was more than eager to get right back into things.

"Labor of love?" Madison asked curiously. "What does that mean exactly?"

"Things people do in their spare time. True passion projects. I think people who create art for themselves and not for a grade is a greater expression of their character." Valarie explained, pride filling her voice.

Madison smiled and nodded.

"Nicely said and well-done for being instrumental to organizing the exhibition on such a short notice," she complimented. "Viola is already being, ah, well, you know."

"A pain?"

"...Yes. But don't tell her I said that. I like the girl, I truly do. Don't want her to reconsider and leave," Madison's grin grew. "You know, word has spread like lightning. We're already receiving submissions."

"That's good to hear," Valarie remarked. "I do want to go to that exhibition when Wednesday comes."

"For sure. No doubt they'll be all kinds of interesting art pieces. Especially from this one girl whose work is the pure definition of bizarre."

"Oh? What does she make?"

"She paints what she dreams, and by god, does the girl dream some weird stuff."

Dreams. Hearing that word compelled Valarie to reflect on her dreams. Before Mojave Rose revived its tankery team, the last time she dreamed was four years ago. Since then, in this year alone, she already had two. She still remembered the vivid details of each.

"What's her name?" Valarie asked.

"Andromeda."

Valarie looked at Madison for a few moments puzzled.

"Is that her nickname?"

"No, no. It's her legal name."

"Her parents named her after the galaxy?"

"She is named after a Greek mythological figure that the galaxy takes it name from."

"Huh. Okay. When a parent really wants a unique name for their child, they'll resort to anything I guess," Valarie noted. "Now, I wanna know more about practice yesterday. I would've asked you when you came home, but not long after you arrived you were fast asleep."

Madison let out a small laugh. The clothes she wore was still Valarie's uniform. As she had slept in it, it was all wrinkly."

"My oh my was it exhausting and fun at the same time. We followed your agenda to a tee, so it all went smoothly though Harper did see right through it. Oh...there is other thing." Madison said, her tone shifting to anxiousness.

"What is it?"

"I, uh, might have promised something regarding that Churchill."

"What did you promise, Madison?"

Madison took in a huge breath and brought her hands together.

"I promised that the Churchill will be repaired and ready faster than the SU. Uh. I've come to understand that the SU—"

"Took a whole day," Valarie finished. "Our SU-100 was very damaged when we got it. Just a hair from being destroyed. The whole team came together to repair the thing. It was a lot of work."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said—"

"But the Churchill is in better shape," Valarie went on. "For one, it's engine will not have to be reassembled, just installed in the proper place. For the tracks, sure, some track pieces and roadwheels are missing, but I'm willing to bet that these missing pieces are in that metal recycling plant, scattered around when the tank was first brought there."

"A search can be arranged. The forge will have to be shut off so that these parts aren't accidentally smelted."

"Cool. Finally, there is the matter of the turret. That'll need the most work. Removing the old gun then modifying the turret to accept the replacement. I think all the necessary repairs can be done during tomorrow's meeting."

"All in a meeting?" Madison questioned? "It seems like a tall order."

"A dozen or so people working on the thing should get it done in that amount of time," Valarie reasoned. She stood up from the couch the pair were sitting at and fetched her playbook. She got out the map of the battlefield to give it another glance. "When will we make port? I guess a better question is where 'cause Bolivia is a landlocked country."

"Right you are. By Tuesday we will have crossed the Panama Canal into the Pacific and on Thursday make port in Chile. Your team will have to leave for your match a few days in advance to acclimate."

"Acclimate? What for?"

"Your match location is twelve thousand feet above sea level. You and your team will need to acclimate to the riving elevation as air gets thinner the higher you go. The very last thing you want is to have attitude sickness while getting shot at."

"Well, someone did their homework."

Madison sported a blush.

"Ha. A few summers back my parents and I took a grand vacation. A tour of South America. The salt flats you are going to was a place my family went to. Utterly gorgeous. Told my mom the place would be a great place to shoot some sci-fi movie it looked totally 'alien.'

"And let me guess, she agreed and like within a year or two filing began, hmm?"

Madison stood up, the look on her face one of surprise.

"Woah. Exactly! You know the movie?"

Valarie chuckled.

"Sci-fi isn't my thing. The only movies I like are those old 2D animated Disney films and war movies. Not those super violent ones, though."

"Those genres cannot be any more different."

"Hey, I like what I like!" Valarie said defensively.

"And more power to you. So, what's the plan for today?"

With the map in hand, Valarie sat down at a nearby desk and uncapped a pen.

"Get started on making the strategy." she answered.

"You're gonna work? It's Sunday. You know, the whole day of rest. That sorta thing."

"My day of rest was yesterday."

"Alright. Suit yourself."

Before Madison could sit back on the couch to lounge, Valarie had something to ask of her.

"Oh, since you were wearing it yesterday, you mind washing my uniform?"

"...Sure."

Madison retreated to the bedroom to take off the uniform and wore on her own clothes that had an extravagant flair to them. After she spent a moment to adjust her hair to a style that defined here, with uniform in hand, she stepped out of the apartment and took a few steps down the hallway when she stopped. She was unsure what exactly to do as Madison has never done laundry before. Back in her home in Long Beach, her family had maids, chefs, and other kinds of people to maintain a five million dollar home. It was the maids that ensured Madison had clean clothes. Since she came to Catalina and started to live on her own, she did not learn how to do laundry, instead, opted to do to a nearby laundromat and pay for their services. But on this particular Sunday morning, she wasn't in the mood to walk all the way to the nearest laundromat, even though the walk would only be ten minutes at the longest. She would vastly prefer to go to a place to get some breakfast. Thankfully, as it tends to happen with a privileged life she has, Madison gets what she wants. Several doors down, a person emerged from their apartment with clothes in hand. Serendipity has struck twice in quick succession as this person too was heading out to the laundromat. It was a member of the Mojave Rose team. Their name, Madison didn't know. It didn't matter.

"Hey," she said with a snap of her fingers. The person turned around. "Wanna make fifty bucks?"

Monday

It was the lunch hour at Catalina and amid all the conversations, laughter, and some yelling, five people were grouped together at a lunch table, the crews of the AMR and the Puma. From her bag, Cassidy produced a piece of paper and placed it on the table. Aurora scooped it up and began to read it.

"Hmm," she hummed. "Some kind of news article about tankathlon."

"Yeah it is," said Cassidy. "Did a whole bunch of reading on it. The sport is more underground that I thought."

"No kidding," Aurora remarked. "The journalist who made this article interviewed some tankathlon participants and all of them demanded to remain anonymous. They said some interesting things. Tankathlon it seems can be organized, like having its own tournaments, but it can also be very spontaneous. Matches can be planned and conducted on the same day."

"With the ten ton weight limit, the logistics is easier. Especially when things like spectator's area aren't part of these matches. It's just pure tank combat. Anywhere. Anytime."

"Oh, I love the sound of that," Aurora commented with a excited smile. "We need to be in a tankathlon match as soon as possible. I'm not waiting till our next match to fire our guns. I need that thrill to live."

"Lucky for you, since I learned that this big boat is heading to Chile, I've started to look around for tankathlon matches in the country."

"And? Got anything?"

A grin on her face, Cassidy withdrew her phone and read aloud what she found.

"The Chilean Tankathlon Syndicate is hosting a series of matches for the month of September. These matches are in a free-for-all configuration. Six teams of two tanks each are to fight each other, with the last team standing the winner. All welcome to sign up."

"Why do they call themselves a syndicate?" Riley asked. "A name like that makes it sound like what they're doing is illegal."

"Syndicate is such a badass word," Cassidy said. "That's probably why they use it. Tankathlon isn't illegal though, so don't you worry about that. It's just that some of the more traditionalist people of tankery view it as something that's worth less than dirt."

"I don't give a damn what those traditionalists thinks," Aurora said with some energy. "All I care about right now is us getting in to those free-for-all matches. Can you arrange that?"

"I can try. When we make port I'll see what I can do. If we're lucky, we can have a match by this weekend."

"How are we gonna keep all this hidden from Valarie? From the rest of the team?" Nathan then said.

His sister scratched her chin.

"Hmm. I wanna try something."

"Try what?" Aurora inquired.

"I want to know Valarie's reaction to tankathlon. We could be very wrong here thinking that she'd be against it."

"Her supporting us will make everything so much easier." Avery noted.

"Yeah, but we gotta be sly about this. Can't just go up to her and flat out ask 'what do you think of tankathlon?'. Doing that will announce our interest to her and if she does not like tankathlon then we'll have a spotlight on us which would make doing the sport a bit more harder."

"How we get her to talk about tankathlon if we can't ask her?"

Cassidy shook the paper in her hand.

"She needs to find this on her own. We'll drop the paper near her tank and hope she picks it up. Me and Nathan will be nearby to hear her reaction and fill you guys with the details later."

"Alright, sounds good." Aurora remarked.

"Wait, why do I have to be with you?" Nathan asked.

"I volunteered you."

"More like volun-told."

Later

The moment the school day came to a close, Valarie rushed back to her apartment to slip into her uniform. Though today's meeting wouldn't start for two hours, Valarie wasn't going to wait. She had barely spent five minutes in her apartment when she proceeded to head for the door.

"Woah, where you going?" Emma called from the kitchen, in the middle of preparing a snack.

"The garage. Want to get give the Churchill an thorough inspection to find if there is anything else to repair."

"Oh." The sense of disappointment was strong in Emma's voice. Though the two shared the same classes, it was times like these when it was just them with no one watching. No need to constrain their affections for each other. Valarie felt her emotions and walked toward her.

"I hate to disappoint you," Valarie said, her voice smooth as silk. "But it's important."

"I know," Emma responded. The two held hands. "I should be used to things like this, but...I'm not. Sorry."

"Don't you be sorry for wanting to spend time with me, your girlfriend," Valarie rested her forehead against Emma's. A moment later, the two shared a long kiss that erased all feelings of disappoint from Emma's mood. "Catch you later."

"See ya." Emma said with a giggle. She felt like she was intoxicated.

With her girlfriend satisfied, Valarie promptly left for the garage. It was a lonely walk as usually Valarie would not only be with her crew, but with the rest of the team as well. The path to the garage, lined with houses and shops have become quite accustomed to the daily sight of over sixty teens all in World War II-era U.S Army tank crewman uniforms all in one group heading in the same direction. Now, it was just a solitary figure. Though Valarie has grown well beyond the point of feeling out of place when among people wearing day-to-day clothes. Her uniform might as well be an extension of her body at this point.

When she arrived, Valarie entered the garage and flipped on the lights. She turned her gaze to the Churchill and to her delight spotted a crate by the machine. Moving toward the crate, she opened it and her smile grew upon seeing pieces of tracks and roadwheels. Her hunch has been correct that the missing pieces for the tank were scattered around the metal recycling area. Madison has arranged for people to search the place and they managed to find the necessary pieces. As Valarie rummaged through through the parts, she was amazed that Madison had the clout necessary to even do this. The authority of a student council president is restricted to Catalina's campus. No, what gives Madison the ability to do this and much more was simply due to the fact who her mother was.

Next to the crate were the necessary tools to modify the Churchill's turret; Welding torches and accompanying gas canisters. Taking a closer look at the canister and Valarie found that one canister contained oxygen, and the other acetylene.

"That's the general purpose stuff, Val," her mother's words rang in her head. "Oxy-Acet is the stuff I use damn near everyday. That and arc welding."

"Wish you were here, Mom," Valarie said aloud. "I remember you saying how you loved working on the T-44."

Using the welding tools will have to wait, however, as there was a pressing matter. Valarie climbed upon the Churchill and first went to the engine deck, where there, she opened the rear hatch to look into engine compartment. There was a large space where the Bedford Twin-Six engine was supposed to be in, though Valarie expected that. Looking further, she saw what was still in their proper places. Radiator. Fuel pumps. Filters. These engine components weren't merely there, but they were in great condition, as if the tank hasn't been used for very long.

"Interesting." she commented.

From the engine compartment, she moved to the turret. The commander's hatch was opened and she climbed inside. The fighting compartment was covered with vaporized powder, the remnant of the explosion that occurred in the cannon barrel. Other than the filth, everything within the Churchill was in immaculate condition. Gun controls worked flawlessly, vision devices crystal clear, and the radio looked like it was installed just the other day. A few more minutes of inspection later and Valarie climbed out of the tank and stood in front of it. Hands at her hips, she shook her head and let out a laugh.

"The things people throw away."

Valarie guessed that whoever used to own the Churchill had it no longer than a few months and that when its gun was destroyed, instead of repairing it, they just discarded it.

With her inspection completed and no further problems identified, Valarie set out to begin repairs. The right tools were fetched from the boxes and grabbing one of the found roadwheels, got straight to installing them. There was something therapeutic about doing these repairs. Valarie adored working on tanks. She took her team working the tools, actually savoring each moment. It wasn't long before her freshly cleaned uniform had blotches of grease stained upon it and from the grime of the floor she laid on. An hour elapsed as Valarie worked on not only installing the roadwheels, but also performing maintenance on the ones that were already mounted. In all that time, she was in a pure state of bliss. Tranquility. The relaxation she had on her day off didn't come close to this. Not by a long shot.

"Valarie?"

Valarie stood right up when she heard her name being called. Turning to the source, she saw Gabrielle standing close-by. Valarie, so focused on the repairs, that she was totally oblivious to Gabrielle's arrival.

"Mrs. Redwood," Valarie greeted. "I, uh, I wanted to hit the ground running on getting the Churchill ready."

"I figured you would with what you said before practice. Man, you made some real strides, huh?" Gabrielle said, looking at the roadwheels. "Still, wait for the rest of the team to arrive. Pick some to help. It'll go faster that way."

"Gotcha."

"Alright, got some administrative work to handle. Fun stuff. Mind opening the garage doors ten minutes before the meeting starts?"

"You got it."

"Thanks."

Gabrielle walked toward the stairs that led to the second floor office when from the corner of her eye she spotted the welding torch and gas canister. Instantly, her heart skipped a beat and could already feel a sweat coming on. The memories, despite all the progress she had made, was still as fresh as ever. Gabrielle gave the welding tools a large berth as if they were a venomous snake, coiled, its tail rattling, ready to deliver a fatal strike. She moved quickly as she headed for the office.

Following what Gabrielle told her, Valarie laid on the Churchill and played on her phone. Somehow, time spent on her phone felt slow compared to when she was repairing the Churchill. Ten minutes prior to the start of the meeting, Valarie opened the large garage doors and soon members of the team trickled in and went about their routine. Once a good chunk of the team arrived, Valarie walked around the garage and politely asked members to help in the repair. She gathered eleven people from various crews and together they worked on the Churchill. The sounds of multiple tools in action all blended together harmony that can only be superseded by the thunderous sound of a volley of cannon fire. The tracks and the roadwheels didn't take long and neither did the mounting of the engine, thanks to the ceiling-mounted crane that slipped the thing in its proper place. Once the right connections made and some fuel poured in, Valarie had the honor of starting the engine, its noise echoing throughout the garage to everyone's joy. But what is a tank if it cannot shoot? What remained to do was to replace the Six-Pounder with the old 75mm of the Sherman Jumbo. It was decided to make the job easier that the Churchill's turret is to be removed and placed on the floor where the modification is to take place. Removing the bolts and other parts to detach the turret from the hull was a simple task enough, and the crane, though with a bit of struggle, lifted the turret and placed it on the garage floor.

"Alright, who wants to use the welder torch and start cutting?" Valarie offered, holding the torch in hand.

"Pass." said Lucy, driver of the ACIV.

"Hmm...no." rejected Lily, the Panther II's radio operator.

"Uhhh, maybe next time." said the gunner of the VK, Iris.

The rest of the repairers shook their heads.

"Alright," Valarie remarked. She put aside the torch and started to put on the protective clothing that came with the welding tools. "I'm not my mom, but I'll give it my best try."

Leaning against some shelves nearby, Cassidy watched Valarie as she prepared to do the welding.

"This is our chance Nathan," she told him. "Got the paper?"

Her brother held it proudly in his hand. He fashioned it into a paper airplane.

"Ready."

"I'll give you this, you make paper airplanes better than me."

He gave her the biggest smile then shifted his attention to Valarie. He visualized the travel of his paper craft in his mind and after a bit more mental preparation, threw the airplane. Cassidy and Nathan quickly got out of view as the airplane glided toward its destination. Just as Valarie was to slip on a protective face shield, she noticed the paper land just by her feet. Curious, she picked it up and unfolded it.

"Watcha got there?" asked Iris.

"Some kind of article on...what...tankathlon?"

"Oooh, that sounds interesting!"

Just behind the Churchill, Cassidy and Nathan listened closely as Valarie continued to speak.

"Tankathlon is a form of tankery where the main rule is that tanks must be ten tons or less. Every single tankery governing body in all the countries that practice tankery has denounced it in some form. But people still do it."

"Maybe we can do tankathlon?" Lily suggested. "Don't we have tanks that fit the criteria?"

"We do. But we will not be doing tankathlon. This team is already controversial enough because of the fact that we're coed. If we do tankathlon, it'll just hurt us. Gives people who don't already like us another reason," Valarie flicked her head to have the face shield cover her. "Check this out."

With the paper in one hand, and a torch in the other, she incinerated the paper and let the cinders fall to the floor.

"And that's all we'll talk about that."

Her message was clear. This team will not do tankathlon.

"Okay," Cassidy remarked to her brother. "She, uh, she won't be supportive. At all."

"We gonna give up now?"

"Nah. We're still gonna do it. We'll now have to be all secret spy about it."

The siblings went to the Puma to share their findings. All the while, Valarie was now fully ready to get to work on the Churchill's turret. Before she ignited the torch, she reviewed a booklet she had gotten whose title stated,

Mark IV Churchill NA 75 Conversion Do-It-Yourself

"Okay...step one." Valarie said to herself.

The torch was lit and was brought to bare on the turret. Step one from the booklet stated that the old Six-Pounder gun was to be removed. Easy enough. The scorching hot flame seared the steel producing sparks that flew in all directions, the sounds being produced causing every person on the team to stop what they were doing to statre, only for a fraction of a second as the bright light from the welding work hurt their eyes. A half a minute later and Valarie stopped to check her work. She was surprised to see that the torch hasn't gone all the way through and that she has only made a sort of 'canal' in the steel.

"Not hot enough."

She twisted a valve on the canister to deliver more gas to the torch. When it was reignited, she could fell the intensified heat. Yet, still, progress was made much slower than Valarie thought. The steel proved to be stubborn. So stubborn in fact that it took the entirely of the meeting just to cut off the mantlet that held the Six-Pounder in place. With some help of the crane, the Six-Pounder was removed and set aside to be discarded.

"God damn, finally. Okay, step two."

Using the measurements from the booklets, Valarie used a marker to make out just how much she had to recut to turret to accept the 75mm fun.

"Valarie."

"Hmm?" Valarie hummed, not turning around.

"The meeting is over," Emma informed her. "People are already leaving."

"What? It's over already?"

"Yeah."

Valarie stood up and looked around the garage. She saw members leaving through the main door.

"I'm not done yet." she said.

"Well, pick it up tomorrow. Mrs. Redwood said its okay you didn't finish all in one day because the welding took longer than anyone thought."

Valarie placed her hands on her hips and just stared down at the floor for several moments.

"Go home without me," she then said. "I have to...clean up here."

"Alright, don't take long."

"Hey you never know," Valarie said in cryptic manner. "Clean one mess and another one takes it place."

"Oookay. See ya."

Emma walked off though took one glace of Valarie who was wheeling the gas canisters away. With a shrug, she left. The last remaining members of the team took their leave, with Gabrielle and Martin the only ones left in the garage.

"Good day all things considered." Marin said.

"Says you. You're the type of guy who likes doing expense reports. Geez." Gabrielle remarked with an eye roll."

"Good day in terms of productity. We were behind on some things and now we're all caught up."

"That's something I guess. Let's get home I got a craving for—"

"Something weird?"

"You know actually, I want fried chicken."

"About time you had something normal. Don't you eat for three. That's a myth, you know."

"Don't you ruin my fun."

Gabrielle flipped a switch and pressed a button on a control panel. The lights in the garage turned off and the large doors closed behind them as they went home. The garage was bathed in darkness with only the fleeting sunlight of the setting sun providing a modicum of illumination. Over at the T-44, the commander's hatch then flung open as Valarie got out of her tank. She had hidden in it waiting for everyone to leave. Taking precautions, she still waited for few more minutes to ensure that Gabrielle and Martin has truly left. Once she felt secure, she flipped on the lights and retrieved the welding tools and put back on the protection.

"As I said," she said softly to herself as she relit the torch. "I'm not done yet."

Work was resumed immediately. The Churchill's turret was recut per the specifications from the booklet, a task that took Valarie some time but she was too busy to check her phone to check its clock. With step two done, she went to where the Jumbo's old 75mm was and looked it at. At over three thousand pounds, there was no chance in hell that she could carry the thing to its new place. Enlisting the help of the ceiling-mounted crane once more, she had it move the gun to the turret and with her hand, guided it to the hole she had just cut. To her immense satisfaction, it slid right in. The crane's cables were removed and the gun was fit. Almost. The torch again was ignited and the gun was securely welded in place followed by the external mantlet for extra armor protection.

Valarie took a few steps back to admire her handiwork. The turret was ready to be remounted. She didn't waste time taking a break. The crane was put to work for one more final time where it lowered the turret back into the Churchill's hull, where it landed with an audible clang. All the bolts and other necessary parts were reinstalled and with the last twist of a heavy-duty wrench, Valarie let herself rest for a few moments inside the turret. She took a peak at the time and learned that it was almost midnight. She had been in the garage for over nine hours and been working for every minute of it. Emma by now most certainly no longer believes she is still cleaning up. But it was all worth it.

Valarie started the engine to give power to the electrics and operated the gun. The new 75mm cannon moved excellently. She let out a pleased sigh, turned off the engine and got out of the tank.

"Churchill NA 75 ready for duty. All you need now is a crew."

A yawn informed her of her exhaustion. Her eyes felt heavy, uniform dirty, the muscles in her arms and legs ached from all the physical labor. All she wanted now was to crawl into bed with a certain special someone. Hopefully she isn't too mad.

Valarie was not the only person staying up late. In her apartment, Heather was in bed, her eyes fixed on her computer screen. Since coming home from practice, she had been browsing on web forums, not any of those that were about tankery, but those centered around mysteries. It was the sort of subject that could have her reading about for hours on end, and talking about it for just as long. Any kind of mystery got her attention, from someone's unexplained disappearance, the sighting of some unknown creature lurking in the woods, strange lights in the sky, and so much more.

On this particular web form, Heather browsed though topics where each of its titles were nothing short of fantastical.

Men In Black: Government agents or aliens in disguise? Discuss!

Apollo 11 UFO Sightings - Genuine Photos

Have You Dreamed This Man?

Heather would've loved to jump in each and every one of those topics, but one caught her eye and its title was unusually plain compared to everything else.

Lost Vehicles

Heather had a hand on her cheek as she thought about the title. Lost vehicles can include tanks, and since she was in tankery, it would be right up her alley. She clicked on the thread and went to the most recent page. She came across a discussion among a few users, all of whom seem to be insulting another.

"Don't come here with your BS. Your story is a complete and utter fake." one user said.

"What did you expect? To us to play your little game? You're pathetic." said another.

"Fuck off." a third said, more bluntly than anyone else.

Scrolling up, Heather found the comment in question that made people mad.

"You guys want a real mystery you can actually solve? In my possession I've got the first set of clues to a lost tank hidden by my father before he passed. Message me so we can have a talk. I want to give the clue to a person I feel is right for this sorta thing."

This user hasn't responded to all the insults he received. Heather was concerned he was bullied off the site as she was interested in this mystery of his. She checked his profile on the forums and saw that he was still online. Heather quickly created an account and wrote him a private message.

"I'm intrigued by this mystery of yours. I'm a person currently in the world tankery tournament. Hopefully that makes me the right person for 'this sorta thing.'"

She hit send. The wait wasn't long as a ping from her computer alerted her to a response.

"A tankery athlete would be the right person for these purposes. If you can supply some kind of proof that you are in the sport, we can proceed."

Heather looked around her bedroom to find what would serve as good enough proof. She first considered her uniform but after some more thought realized it wasn't good enough as anyone could have a tankery uniform but not be associated with the sport at all. Her eyes went to her nightstand where her wallet was. She opened it and dug out her special driver's license that allowed her to drive the T-44. She snapped a photo of it and sent it to the person. A few minutes later, a response.

"Okay Heather. We can proceed."

Seeing her name on the message spooked her, but she then realized that she neglected to blur out her name on her license.

"Damn."

Her worries about this slip in privacy were gone when another message came through.

"Since you gave your name, so shall I. My name is Elias Viklund. My father before his passing has hidden a tank whose location can only be found by deciphering and following a set of clues. Attached to this message is a scan of the first clue along with more detailed instructions and a forward from my father. My contact info is listed below as not only do I want updates should you make them, but also in case you need me for something. Don't ask for help for the clues because I have no idea. I read the first one and I'm completely stumped. Good luck."

Heather was over the moon. A real, honest-to-god mystery for her to tackle. Without skipping a beat, she opened the attached file and read the title

The Adventure to End All Adventures; A Grand Hunt for a German Mechanical Gargantua


	70. Chapter 70

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be. Not. Afraid.

_Tuesday, September 10th 2013_

After several days of sailing, Catalina's school ship reached the warmer waters of the Pacific Ocean, with them crossing the Panama Canal during the previous night. The ship now traveled south toward the Port of Iquique in Chile. For Madison she was excited. It has been too long since she's been to anywhere in South America. Already was she making all sorts of plans of things to do in Chile and the surrounding countries. Though before she allowed herself to daydream for too long, she did have an important matter to attend to. The crew for the Mojave Rose's new Churchill. It was the adults on the team, Martin and Gabrielle, to choose the new members out of a list of applicants which worked on first-come-first-serve basis. To get them to the ship was where Madison stepped in.

Mojave Rose had a unique problem compared to the rest of the schools participating in the world tournament. Per the rules set forth by the governing body that regulates international tankery, members of a tankery team must be current students of the school that team belongs to. The problem here was that the student body of Mojave Rose High School tends to be over a thousand miles away from Catalina's school ship.

A problem that did have a solution thanks to Madison who has arranged the air travel for the last two crews and now a third. In her dorm, she reviewed the flight information. How the new crew will get here will be a little different. She will for sure have Valarie close-by to see the crew arrive as it'll surely be a spectacle.

Once the flight info was sufficiently reviewed, she set aside her laptop and got dressed for the day. In was early in the morning as slipped into her school uniform. At first, one would be puzzled as to why a girl like Madison when she first came to Catalina would go and live in the dorms rather than the more spacious and luxurious student apartments. The answer was simple; she was enamored with the concept of a dorm room. A small space with every square inch used to its maximum efficiency. A bed, closet, shelves, and a desk. Of course, with Catalina being the wealthy school that it was, also had its dorms have a TV and a mini-fridge. Something not even some colleges have for their own dorms.

Once she finished brushing her hair, she got her bag and left the dorm building. There was a chill in the morning air as she headed toward the direction of the theater to do some business over there when just on the border of her peripheral vision was a girl leaning against a lamp post. A girl whose hair was as brown as freshly dug soil from the earth that was slightly wavy. On her hair was a pair of aviator sunglasses that Madison could tell were on the expensive side. There was a familiarity to her, Madison could feel it. The girl made her way over to her. She snapped her fingers as she tried to recall something.

"...Madison, right?" the girl asked.

"Right," Madison confirmed. "I know you from somewhere but for the life of me I can't attach a name to your face."

"Jacqueline," she told her with a grin. "Commander of Mojave Rose's artillery."

"Oh! Yes! That's where I remember you. You look awfully different when not in your tankery uniform."

"Mmmhmm," hummed Jacqueline. "Now, Madison, I understand that you've done a lot for this team. Hell, it was you that made it possible for us to even be on this ship in the first place making travel for our matches so much easier. That makes you what?"

"Your most generous benefactor." Madison said slowly and happily.

"Right. I wonder just how generous are you."

"I've bought tanks for your team and I'm more than willing to buy more."

"How about a plane?"

Madison narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side.

"A...plane?" she said quizzically. "The team gonna start up some kinda bomber squadron?"

"I'm thinking more of reconnaissance," Jacqueline said to her. "What do you know about RC planes?"

Madison shrugged.

"Nothing. Other than it's a hobby." she admitted.

"A very fun hobby. I fly RC stuff a lot. Back home in Barstow I have a whole squadron of RC aircraft. I also play those flight simulators games, read books about aircraft, watch airplane documentaries...look I love anything that flies."

"I can see that."

"I come to you to make a request for something that can help the team. An RC plane."

"Is that so? What kind of plane?"

"One where nose-to-tail is as tall as. Has a mounted camera to provide a first-person perspective and out-of-visual flight. And a powerful radio transmitter to control the craft twenty to thirty miles away from the controller."

Madison eyed her up and down.

"I don't think you can find something like that in some hobby shop."

"Nope. Thankfully, I have found a place where you can order such a plane."

Jacqueline showed Madison her phone where on it was a picture of the RC plane she wanted.

"What is it?" Madison asked curiously.

"A 1/12 RC Model of a Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird. The model is powered by a pair of miniature turbojet engines that run on either diesel or kerosene."

"Geez, this is one hell of a toy."

"I know!" Jacqueline nearly squealed. "I can fly that thing and do a whole lot of recon during our matches."

"Is this even allowed in a tankery match?"

"Sure is. You'd be surprised at what things can be allowed in a match. For the team, we've faced off against people who used fake wooden tank models to throw us off. I also hear of some people using some kind of siege mortar. If a monster like that can be in a match, then surely a little ol' model spy plane can too."

"Hmm. Well, if it's allowed then I don't see why not."

"Awesome! Say, the six-and-half thousand dollar price tag isn't a problem, right?"

"Nah," Madison said with a dismissive wave. "I spent much more money without a second thought. _Much_ more."

"Damn. Okay." Jacqueline said with some surprise.

"You can expect this toy to arrive sometime after we make port in Chile."

"Wicked. Oh, and more more thing," Jacqueline got real close to her. "Is it true you and Valarie are sisters? We heard the rumors."

Madison answered with a nod.

"Shit man," Jacqueline exclaimed with a laugh. "You two look so alike!"

She departed with a wave, leaving Madison with an ever-growing smile.

"So I've heard."

_Later_

Throughout the school day, Ashley noticed something peculiar about Heather's behavior. Normally a girl so reserved in her emotions, at times even stoic, was now acting all giddy with the biggest, warmest smile Ashley has ever seen on her. Ashley has never seen her like this. The only times she ever departed from her normal, normal to her, behavior was either when she lost total control of her temper or was struggling with her inner turmoil.

Ashley was obviously delighted to the moon and back to see Heather in a wonderful mood. She was just curious as to what caused it in the first place. Heather being hunter, she answered cryptically when asked.

"I'm hunting a metal gargantua."

Her answer didn't satisfy Ashley. She prodded her again and again to explain what she was talking about but Heather would always playfully refuse, clearly enjoying teasing her. Each time, Ashley would get a bit more desperate to achieve any sort of headway. She would try to hide it but Heather could hear and feel the desperation in Ashley's requests, further contributing to her fun. In between class periods, a near exasperated Ashley pulled Heather aside to an empty classroom to try another attempt.

"Okay, what's up with you? Keeping some sort of secret."

Heather flashed a smile.

"I'm just loving it. Teasing you all day." she said.

"All this teasing and no reward, you know how I hate that. So, please, tell me, what has put you in a good mood.

"Why would I do that and spoil my fun, darling?"

Ashley blushed at that.

"Alright. Name what you want and I'll do it. Keep in mind that since we're dating, you have options at your disposal that no one else has."

Heather smirked.

"Oh, I know. I'm well aware of what they are," she paused to ponder what she wanted from Ashley. Her eyes lit up when she had something good in mind. "I want you to sing for me."

"O-oh," Ashley stuttered out in surprise. "I, uh, I thought you wanted us to f—okay I'll sing for you. Been a while since I last did it."

"Well, go on then."

"What? Now?! I gotta prepare for that! I don't even have a song in mind and I perform better with an instrument."

Heather crossed both her arms and legs. She was disappointment.

"I guess you'll never know then."

"Wait, just give me time. I'll get a routine sorted out and..and...I'll perform not just for you but for Valarie and Emma as well."

Heather let out an excited gasp.

"Oh! A more proper audience. That's what I wanted for a long time. Okay, you have your preparation. I can't wait!"

"Will you please tell me now?"

At long last, Heather gave a nod. She pulled out her phone and read aloud what was on the screen.

"If you are reading this, then you are the person that my son has entrusted to embark on this grand adventure. Someone who will truly appreciate what lies in store for you in the end. Who I am needn't concern you. What you need to know is this," Heather paused for a moment to look up from her phone at Ashley, who was absolutely enthralled. Pleased, she went on. "Somewhere in Europe is a genuine German tank from the First World War. I have devised a series of clues that will lead to its location. These clues will test you on a series of things from historical knowledge to cryptography. I wish you all the luck, and above all, that you have one hell of a time."

She again looked up from her phone, now done.

"Oh...man!" exclaimed Ashley. "You sure found something good. Real good! A hunt for a German tank from World War I? There is really only one possibility as to what that tank is."

Heather slowly nodded.

"Valarie's all-time favorite tank, the A7V." she said.

"She's gonna freak out once we tell her about this."

"That girl is gonna scream."

"So!" Ashley said with an eager clap. "What's the first clue?"

Heather resumed her attention to her phone and read aloud the clue.

"You'd have to be as mad as a hatter to fly this thing."

They both looked at each other with blank expressions.

"You got anything?" Heather wondered.

"Nada," Ashley replied with a shrug. "Hey, what are we supposed to do with the answer when we figure it out?"

"In the file I was sent to kick off this adventure was a link to a website. It was blank, though I can tell it was made in the early 2000s. The only thing on it is an input box."

"A password box." Ashley figured.

"And whatever the answer is for the clue is, presumably, the password to unlock the next step."

"Okay," Ashley had a hand on her chin. "Mad as a hatter. That mean's someone is crazy. So a guy gotta be outta his mind to fly the plane or whatever the clue is talking about. So...some kind of experimental plane maybe?"

"Or it could also be talking about flying something that was never designed to fly in the first place."

Ashley threw her arms up in the air.

"In that case, the clue could literally refer to _anything_. Man, I'm already getting annoyed!"

"Imagine how I feel. Since I first read the clue I've scoured lists of experimental aircraft. Planes, jets, rockets, gliders, even blimps and hot air balloons. Aircraft development spans over a hundred years so, understandably, there is a lot of prototype aircraft that makes it all overwhelming.

"And you could be wasting your time if the clue _isn't _referring to some aircraft."

"Yeah," Heather sighed. "I've got my work cut out for me."

"Well now you got me to help you out. Take on my fair share of the workload."

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

"This is gonna be fun."

"Totally."

A warning bell sounded, informing students that they have a minute to get to their classes before being marked tardy.

"Gotta go. Trying not to be late to classes is my new thing," Ashley said. She then leaned close to Heather. "Catch you later...darling."

She gave Heather a peck on her blushing cheeks and went off. Heather giggled as she strolled to class, her mind occupied by both the clue and of Ashley.

_That Afternoon_

When Martin and Gabrielle arrived to open up the garage ahead of the start of the team's meeting today, the very first the pair saw when the doors opened was the Churchill NA 75, its conversion work completed.

"What in the goddamn...it's finished?" Gabrielle said with shock. "When I left the garage yesterday the thing still had a mountain of work ahead of it. Now it looks ready for action. Who did this?"

"I don't have the slightest idea." Martin said.

Before the two could speak further, some members of the team were already arriving to the garage. Among them was Emma, walking straight to the T-44, with Valarie following quickly behind. They could hear the words from her voice.

"You're not still mad at me, are you?"

The pair was soon out of sight.

"I think I know who did it," Gabrielle said with a small chuckle. "Oh Valarie. You poor girl."

At the T-44, Emma climbed upon the tank and sat on the turret with her back aimed at Valarie, arms crossed. Valarie remained on the ground level.

"Are you going to give me the silent treatment all day?" Valarie questioned. "Emma. Please. I said I'm sorry over a hundred times. But you know how I am."

She could hear Emma give a sigh.

"Yeah...I know," Emma said, finally speaking to her. She turned to face her. "I've known you for a decade now. Since day one, I know how much of a fanatical you are when it comes to tanks. It'll take a while, but I think I'll soon accept the fact that when it comes to your loves, I'll always be below tanks."

"What?!" Valarie scrambled to the turret top with Emma. "That can't be more further than the truth."

"Well waiting all night for you to return from the garage for you to supposedly to 'clean' says otherwise."

Valarie sighed. She glanced toward the garage door and saw more of the team enter. Wanting some privacy, she motioned Emma into the turret where the two continued to talk.

"Emma," Valarie said as she held her hands. "I love tanks. So very much. But my love for you outshines it in every regard. Brighter than the brightest stars in the universe. I want to marry you. You as my wife would be the absolute crowing achievement of my entire life. Bar none."

"Emma Woodlin has a nice ring to it." Emma said with a small smile, a blush steadily growing on her cheeks.

"It suits you beautifully."

Valarie brought Emma's hand close to her to lay a kiss on it.

"I'm so sorry about last night. I promise nothing like that will ever happen again. I will always be with you when we walk back home from our meetings."

"Mmm, that's a start."

"And to more properly make it up, how about I take you out somewhere? There's an art exhibition happening tomorrow night that I did have a hand in its creation."

"An art exhibition, huh?" Emma asked intrigued. "That sounds fun."

"It'll be a date! We'll dress all nice and walk around looking at art. Act like members of high society."

"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy that."

"But I'm not gonna wait 'til tomorrow to start making up to you," Valarie said in a gentle whisper as she pulled Emma close to her. "It's starting now."

Outside the T-44, Heather and Ashley made their arrival. They looked at the tank for a moment.

"We got here before them, huh?" Heather remarked. "I don't buy it."

"Same. They must be in the tank." Ashley determined.

"Doing what?"

"Well, knowing Valarie, probably not what we think."

"I'll just find out real quick."

Heather went to the driver's hatch and opened it as quietly as possible. She aimed her ear to the opening and listened closely. She only needed to listen for a moment to understand what was going on and shut the hatch as quick as she opened it.

"They're kissing."

"That all?"

"Just kissing."

"Well," Ashley said as she moved to rear section of the tracks. "They'll be busy for a bit. Wanna do some track tightening?"

"I'd love to."

The two performed track maintenance to occupy their time. Soon, Emma and Valarie emerge from the turret and join in on tank maintenance. Their faces were of pure happiness. The meeting for today proceeded as normal and when it came to a close and the team were dismissed. With their arms interlocked, Valarie and Emma walked together back to their apartment. Their relationship stronger than ever.

_Wednesday_

When lunchtime rolled around at Catalina, it wasn't unusual at all for the tank crews of Mojave Rose to come and eat together. That was the case for the crew of ACIV Sentinel cruiser tank, who were eating and chatting among themselves. Save for Robin, who after eating quietly, dug out her yarn and a pair of bamboo knitting needles. Robin has already long established to her crew that she enjoyed to knit. Since the early days of the team, she has knitted a variety of things. Scarves, cup cozies, knitted cactus, mittens, and her biggest project, a several foot long blanket that she started back in January and still working on. What she was working currently, however, was the most interesting any of them has seen thus far. Lucy, the ACIV's driver, watched with curiosity as Robin knitted what looked like some kind of hat. A small one.

"What are you making there?" she asked her. "Looks way too small for you or any of us to wear."

"A little lamb hat. Once it's done, it'll be a white beanie with lamb's ear. It's gonna be super cute." Robin answered.

"Oooh, I love it! You making the hat just for fun?"

"Well, I am having fun making it but it will be a gift for Mrs. Redwood when her due date arrives. I'll make two of these hats for her twins."

"Cool! But, ah, her due date isn't until March, right?"

"True. But, man, I just can't wait for next year to make 'em."

"You and babies, Robin. Can't get enough of them, hmm?" remarked Autumn, their loader.

"Oh my god, I _adore _them. Every time I see a baby out in public it makes me instantly smile and I can't resist making faces at them to make them laugh."

"What is that dream job of yours?" Alexa then said, snapping her fingers. "A Neo-something nurse?"

"Neonatal nurse," Robin answered. "They're the people who take care of newborn babies, especially those who have any kind of complications or defects. I was a premature baby, born five weeks before the due date. A neonatal nurse took care of me and made sure I, well, you know, lived. Now, I want to return the favor and take care of the kind of babies I once was."

The bell that signaled the end of lunch was heard and the students out in the courtyard started to disperse and head to their classes.

"Now," Robin then said as she gathered her things. "What is this art thing the school is shouting about nonstop?"

_That Night_

The school day was over. The team's meeting was over. The moon has taken the place of the sun and with the sky being cloudless, shined almost as brilliantly. On regular nights, Catalina's campus would be devoid of students and faculty. But for tonight, a special event, planned and executed in a short amount of time, was drawing people in. An art exhibition hosted at, where else, the school's art museum. Valarie and Emma, the moment they returned home from the team's meeting, exchanged their tankery uniforms for formal attire. The couple decided to each wear identical clothing and choose a simple marooned-colored cocktail dress. They had fun as they got dressed, making sure their outfits were just right. They washed their faces and gave their hair extra attention.

"How do I look?" Emma asked.

"Gorgeous." Valarie replied with a warm smile.

"Thank you. Ready then?"

"Ready."

Valarie extended her hand and Emma was more than happy to accept and hold it. The pair left their apartment and headed toward the direction of campus. The night was cool, but not cold enough to necessitate a jacket. Along the way, they came across a few other people, dressed in a manner similar to them, heading to the same place they were. As Valarie and Emma were relatively new students at Catalina, they did not yet understand just how popular and important the art museum is to the school. It was the place Catalina used to showcase, some would say 'brag', the art created by its students to the world. It was an institution not only just for students to come and browse, but also for members of the general public to come and 'get cultured', as the school would put it. As such, when the pair got closer to campus they noticed an increasing amount of people congregating at campus, and a flat-out crowd at the entrance of the museum.

The girls entered and had to carefully maneuver their way through the main entrance hall as it too was crowed with people looking at the exhibits. Valarie led Emma further into the building where the crowd thinned and choose a hallway at random. Here the walls were lined with paintings, most of which beautifully crafted art of scenery. Some natural, with some paintings more certainly of Inspiration Park, others of the ocean the ship traveled filled with sea life, and others of Little Long Beach capturing the essence of the town. All these paintings had different styles to them. One student went for a photorealistic painting, another took a page from Van Gogh and painted their own rendition of a Starry Night with Little Long Beach as the backdrop. A third had a student made use of pointillism to create their self-portrait. All the little dots painstakingly created with the utmost precision.

They walked down a bit more and both halted before a painting that had them transfixed. It was a painting of some bizarre figure. Golden wheels interlocked in a manner that seemed impossible to do, on these wheels were eyes, human eyes, looking in all directions, with some appearing to look directly at the viewer. In the center of these wheels looked what appeared to be a baby. It had its arms and knees close to it, as if it was these wheels served as its womb. The baby was black, not in skin color, but more like it was cast under some shadow despite being surrounded by light. Emma and Valarie stared at this painting, their minds running at full speed to make sense of it. Valarie's turned her eyes to what laid below the painting, its title. It simply said,

_"Be. Not. Afraid."_

"What the hell is this supposed to be?" Emma questioned.

"I dunno. Madison told me of an artist who makes weird stuff," Valarie said. "Andromeda is her name."

"She did not make this," said a voice from behind. Valarie and Emma turned around to see a boy, wearing his school uniform. "It's mine. A Biblically-accurate angel."

"That's an angel?" Emma remarked. "It looks terrifying!"

"A bit different from those porcelain angels you see at the store, eh?" he said with a laugh. "Yes, accurate angels look horrifying. You might even say they look like demons."

"Totally!"

"But that's the point. You ever seen depictions of Lucifer? The fallen angel?"

Valarie gave a half-nod.

"He's normally depicted as a human, right? Kinda handsome."

"Exactly. When demons interact with humans, they make themselves appear attractive. To better convince people to sin. So, that's why the angels are the way they are. To scare the demons and protect humans."

"Huh. Interesting. You religious?"

The boy shook his head.

"Not particularly. I just find the Bible super fascinating."

"If it can inspire art like that, it must be."

"Glad you enjoyed it. Now, if it's Andromeda you're looking for...she's around. Her art is hung up a few halls away. I swear, in a less enlightened time, she'd be locked up in some insane asylum. Have a good night, ladies."

He made his leave. Emma and Valarie remained in place in the hall. Alone.

"I'm actually a bit worried to see the art of this girl," Emma admitted. "If it can freak out a guy who made that 'angel', then it must be something much scarier."

"Same. But I do still have a curiosity. A morbid one, maybe."

"Yeah...me too. Let's go and see it."

With their hands held tight, the girls traveled the halls looking for Andromeda's art. Past by paintings, pottery, glass sculptures, and well-done photographs of animals. They went down a hall near the end of the museum where it was entirely composed of paintings. Slowly they walked down it, gazing upon each and every painting to look for the one that screamed that it was made by Andromeda. Thankfully for them, it didn't take long to find what they were looking for. It stood out from the rest so extremely that it was impossible to miss.

The painting for its background was inverted space. The void between planets and stars was an uncomfortable white, and the stars, instead of the familiar bright lights, were as dark as coal. In the top right section of the painting was a planet. If it can even be called a planet. It looked alive. Some kind of eldritch abomination. How big it was couldn't be ascertained as there was nothing else in the painting to compare it to.

For appearance, it was an horrid amalgamation of flesh and rock that even in a still painting, looked like it was pulsating. Extending from what can be called the surface were a mass of tendrils that, if real, would have lengths of thousands of miles. Its tendrils sprawled in various directions as if it feeling the space around it, looking for something. Below the painting was its title and it provided no clarification at the slightest.

_"My Friend."_

"Good god," Emma remarked with a gasp. "What compels people to make something like this?"

Valarie stepped back to get a better look when she bumped into someone. She let out a small gasp and turned to see a girl who was standing right behind them. Somehow, she managed to get so close without even them knowing. The girl had dark blond hair done up in a ponytail. She wore a pair of oversized glasses with rounded lenses and frame gold in color. Though, considering the amount of wealthy students attending Catalina, there was the real possibility of the frame being made of genuine gold. This girl looked at both Emma and Valarie in a studious manner.

"You must be Andromeda." Valarie said to her.

A grin appeared on the girl's face.

"My reputation precedes me," Andromeda said all drawn out. "To a point where even the operators of those steel beasts know who I am."

"Madison told me about you."

"Madison," echoed Andromeda. "Our own little rabble-rouser. And I mean that in a good way."

"Hmm?"

"When Madison ran for the position of student council president, the speeches she made fired up the electorate and would often criticize the school's administration. Suffice the say the relation between the two has always been tense. But she is effective in her role, no doubt about that."

"Fascinating," Valarie remarked, pleased to learn more about her sister. "Now, Andromeda, mind explaining to us this painting of yours?"

"As you wish!" exclaimed Andromeda. She positioned herself next to her creation and cleared her throat. "I present to you...the thing I've seen in my dreams."

"You...dreamed this? A monstrosity?" Emma said with surprise. "Nightmares more like it."

"My dear, appearances can be quite deceiving."

"That appears to be a theme tonight." Valarie commented.

"When I dream this thing," Andromeda went on. "I feel nothing but remarkable calm."

"How big is it?" Emma questioned

"About the size of Mars."

"How can you tell?"

"Oh, it told me."

"...It told you? That thing can talk?"

"Yup," Andromeda answered as if what she said was the most normal thing in the world. "We had many interesting conversations over a course of multiple dreams."

"You dream the thing more than one, huh?" Valarie remarked. "You think that means something?"

Andromeda looked toward the ceiling for half a minute in silence.

"It could very well be that this thing is just the product of my mind. A concoction of my subconscious that manifests in and only in my dreams," she then smiled. "Or...what appears in my dreams is in fact a real, genuine, entity that exists in some dimension foreign to our own and my brainwaves are set in just the right frequency to see it. I know what possibility I prefer."

Valarie and Emma exchanged glances.

"I think for everyone's sake, I hope for the former." Valarie said.

"Believe me you have nothing to fear from it. Real or not, it's not some thing deadset on catastrophe and calamity. It serves the greater good."

"Gotcha. Well. It's a pleasure to meet you and your painting is genuinely a good piece of work. Even if the content is, uh, a bit disturbing."

"Meeting you has indeed been pleasant," Andromeda said. "We'll meet again. I'll make sure of it."

Andromeda left quickly before any of the girls could respond. Valarie and Emma turned to look at each other.

"We call the interesting people we meet in this goal eccentric," Emma remarked. "But I think she's beyond that."

"I see what you mean. I feel that if she and Heather met, they'd become fast friends."

"They'd be friends so fast it'll make a sonic boom."

They shared a laugh and again held hands. They had much more to see of the art exhibition and resumed their walk. Fortunately, the art they saw was much more wholesome and induced positive emotions as compared to the previous art they had observed. The exhibition was enjoyed well into the night. A date that went superb.

_Thursday_

"What do you mean they're arriving in a few minutes?"

"I mean they're arriving in a few minutes, what don't you understand?"

Prior to the start of the team's meeting, Madison has informed Valarie of the imminent arrival of the new Churchill crew. Understandably, she was flummoxed.

"We're haven't made port yet though."

"True. We're still approximately two hours and twenty-three minutes away from the Port of Iquique. But why wait 'till then?"

"How are they getting here?"

"You'll see."

The pair were in an SUV Madison has rented to help out with the new arrivals. How she managed to rent a car at the age of seventeen was beyond Valarie, though she suspected Madison paid much more than what was typical to 'persuade' the car rental service to allow it.

She drove to the other side of the school ship and parked outside a building that looked like a terminal. Behind it was a clearing with several landing pads. A sign on the building read,

_Little Long Beach Heliport_

"They're coming in a chopper?" Valarie asked

"That they are!"

"Geez. They haven't stepped foot on the ship and already are you spoiling them."

"I sure do move fast." Madison grinned.

They got out of the SUV and waiting by the vehicle. It wasn't long before the sound of the whirling blades of a helicopter was heard followed by the aircraft itself. It was without a doubt a luxurious chopper, sleek and modern. It came to a landing at the heliport out of view. The girls waited for a few minutes when four people exited the terminal, each wearing backpacks and pulling luggage. Two girls and two guys.

"Oh! Another coed crew!" Valarie remarked with excitement.

One of the girls was walking ahead of the rest. Her hair was unbelievably black that it seemed to absorbed all the light that touched it. The color black was a clear favorite of hers as her tank-top was black, her denim jeans, black, and graced on her face was a pair of sunglasses that was, of course, black. To contrast it all was her skin tone, a pale white. This was a girl that once upon a time had submersed herself in goth culture only to later move on. But she hasn't totally left that period of her life behind. Vestiges of it still remained and she wore it proudly.

"Wee'ree heeeere!" the girl exclaimed.

"Hello!" Valarie greeted "I'm glad you're all arrived. Hope the travel over here was okay."

"Someone must have damn deep pockets because our travel over here was fucking _fancy_, man!"

Madison cleared her throat.

"I'm the one with deep pockets."

"My girl. You. I love."

"It was the least I could do," Madison said with a faint blush. "To make things for the team as easy as possible."

"Let's get a move on guys," Valarie then said. "The team's meeting is happening right now."

"Hit the ground running, huh?" the girl remarked. "Hell yeah, let's go!"

The luggage of the new crew was stowed on the SUV and everyone piled in. Once the doors was shut, they were off. As they drove to the team's garage, Valarie spoke with the new crew.

"First things first, what are your names?"

"Claudia." the girl answered, still wearing her sunglasses.

"I'm Millie." said the other girl.

"I'm Cody," said one of the guys. He then pointed to the other remaining boy. "He's Noah. He's a bit of a shy guy."

"Oh yes he is!" Claudia near shouted out. "The only words I heard from the guy during our travel were timid 'please' and 'thank-yous' to the flight attendants. But I'll get him out of his shell, don't you worry. Soon, he'll be one talkative son of a bitch."

"Well...alright," Valarie remarked. Claudia was definitely the type of person who uses swear words more frequently than most. "You guys determined your roles?"

"Just me," Claudia said. "I'm to serve as the commander."

"Really? Not to be rude or anything, but why?"

"I'm the only person outta the four that has done tankery before."

"You have? When!"

"Middle school."

"Huh? I don't know of any middle schools back home operating any tankery teams."

"You talking about Barstow and the surround area, huh? Well, I'm not from Barstow. Or California. I was born on the other side of the country in Maine. Moved to California before the semester started."

"Oh wow. Moving across the country to California only to then come to a school ship. You barely had enough time to get a feel for the place. How does your parents feel about it?"

"Dunno how my dad feels, the bastard left when I was just ten weeks old, but my mom, oh man, she nearly flipped out. She said, 'We only just arrive to California and you want to leave already?!', and I said to her, "Mom, dude, I'm coming back! You said you wanted me to continue tankery!', where she then replied 'Yeah, but, the tankery team of your new school is in the internationals and so far away!', then I hit her with this, 'It'll look so good in college applications!' and she was sold then and there.

"Um..." Valarie said after processing the information dump. "Okay. Ah. It's...it's fantastic that you have previous tankery experience. That'll be a great help when it comes to training you guys."

Claudia leaned toward Valarie who was in the front passenger seat.

"Don't lie to me. You're curious about the first part of what I said, hmm?" she asked.

Valarie hesitated for a moment.

"Well...I didn't want to ask in case it was a sore sport for you."

"Nah," Claudia replied. "Like I said, he left when I was ten weeks old. Too young to remember him. Good riddance really, if the stories my mom tells me are even half true."

"I see. So, your mom raised you by herself?"

"She sure did, and she's doing a good job is I say so myself. The bond we have? Iron tight, dude."

"That's great to hear."

They arrived at the garage a few minutes later. Valarie and the Churchill crew got out of the SUV and went inside. When the new crew latched eyes on their tank, they raced toward it. Claudia, displaying her experience in the sport, climbed upon the tank with skill and got inside the turret quickly. Valarie let them explore their tank for several minutes when she gathered them for another chat.

"All tanks on the team have callsigns," she told them. "Come up with one and you can also paint it on the left side of the turret."

"Kickass. Give us a hot minute and we'll get you our callsign." Claudia said

The Churchill crew grouped up and entered into a brainstorming session with all of them chatting, save for Noah who merely nodded every once in a while. Once they were done, Claudia returned to Valarie.

"We came up with a lotta good names. But tumbleweed won it out."

"_Tumbleweed_, gotcha. Cute name!"

"Damn right."

"Now you can paint a tumbleweed on your turret if you like."

Claudia snapped her fingers and her crew set out to work. Already do they recognize her authority as their commander.

"If you don't mind, I got an interesting story I want to share with you." Claudia said.

"Sure, what is it?" Valarie responded.

"I was doing some reading during the flight to Chile and I came across something from the Second World War," she got close to Valarie. "A U.S soldier was out walking down a dirt road. He soon found a wrecked Panther that was lit ablaze for it was struck by a shot earlier in the day. Flames shot out from every opening and he could feel the intense heat. He gave the thing the wide berth it needed as he continued his walk. Though he still looked at it as he did and noticed something. There was some kind of yellow liquid bubbling out from the space between the hull and the turret. To his horror did he realize what it was. The boiling fat from the Panther crew. They never escaped from their metal coffin."

"Oh my good god..."

"Fucking brutal, eh?" Claudia remarked. "Good thing we have that protective carbon lining."

"Yeah...thankfully."

Claudia playfully tapped on Valarie's shoulder.

"We're gonna have lots of fun! It's been two years since my middle school tankery days so I'm a bit rusty."

"Don't sweat it. We'll all help you get up to speed."

"Awesome. Now, if you'll excuse me, I got to be with my crew."

Claudia went to assist in her crew in painting their callsign on their tank. Valarie watched them for a moment before heading off to her own tank. Claudia has only been on the ship for barely an hour and already has she left a big impression on Valarie. A girl whose personality that Valarie will have to get accustomed to as she has never met a person like her before. But what she liked about her most was her previous experience in tankery. Claudia will no doubt prove herself to be a wonderful asset to the team. One that has a seemingly grand fascination with anything morbid.

With another crew, the Mojave Rose tankery team has another vehicle to field for their matches, a Churchill NA 75. Another gun to contribute to their firepower.

They're gonna need all the help they can get.


	71. Chapter 71

_Friday, September 13th 2013_

_Port of Iquique, Chile_

"So, you're_ really_ sure that you wanna do this?"

"Yup."

"Even with us now knowing how Valarie feels about tankathlon?"

"Mmmhmm."

"If we get caught, we'll get in huge trouble."

"If, Nathan, if. Believe me, we're gonna take every precaution here."

"Okay..."

"Hey, you're still with me bud?"

"All the way."

"Awesome. Let's go get the rest."

Once the school day ended, Cassidy and Nathan intend to use the two hours they have until the meeting starts to do something secretive. Perhaps even clandestine.

Signing up for tankathlon.

As the pair departed their apartment to go Aurora's place, Valarie's thoughts toward tankathlon was still fresh in their minds. Of how she torched the article about the sport and let the burnt cinders fall from her hands and disintegrate upon hitting the concrete floor. From her perspective, Valarie's stance against tankathlon was a protective measure for the benefit of the team. They already attracted enough controversy by the fact that they were a coed team that not only tolerated male inclusion in tankery, but welcomed it with open arms. It was something that those that hold a more traditionalist view on tankery, which is quite a sizable portion of the worldwide tankery athlete population, vehemently objected to on every ground.

Tankathlon was viewed in a somewhat similar manner. An off-shoot of tankery, the sport has been regarded by the same traditionalists as 'lesser'. Inferior. Dishonorable. That participating in such activities was conduct unbecoming for a 'proper' tankery athlete.

Their walk down the hall did induce some levels of apprehension for Cassidy and Nathan. Though Valarie's unit was a floor below them, there was this feat that she for whatever reason would appear from the stairwell or from the elevator. Could they keep a straight face if they had to walk past her. Would they able to lie convincingly during the conversation that would inevitably manifest in such a scenario? A lot of overthinking that would eventually reveal that it was all for naught. With a quick knock, Aurora opened the door of her apartment and let them in. In the living room, they all congregated, both the crews of the AMR 35 and Puma.

"Alright," Aurora said. "What's the move?"

"Sign up for a tankathlon match," Cassidy replied. "I've looked around on that website for the Chilean Tankathlon Syndicate. Managed to get into contact with an organizer who asked a lot of questions. I felt like I was interrogated to make sure I had genuine interest and not had like 'nefarious' motives. After she felt confident, she shared with the the info we need. In the port that we're docked in is a designated ship where people are doing sign-ups. It's only a few rows away."

Aurora rose from her seat and made for the door.

"Let's get a move on," she told everyone. "We'll sign-up and come back in time for the meeting."

The two crews made their quick disembarkation of Catalina's school ship. Down at the docks, they followed Cassidy to the ship in question that was hosting the sign-ups. As they walked, they couldn't help but notice the port around them. Half a dozen school ships have port here, their gargantuan sizes encased the docks below in shadows. It made them wonder if there was a chance that if one of these ships was of the school that they were to go against later in the month. It was a thought that briefly entered all their minds that quickly went away as they all caught glances at the open sea. Humongous sea-faring vessels sailed to and fro across the horizon. Unmistakably, they were other school ships. As the world tournament progressed, the hype that surrounded it increased with every month that passed by. Where matches were to take place, where bullets were to fly, the nearest ports to these areas became popular destinations to the point of horrible congestion. A lot of work for port authorities. A nice boost to the local economies.

It took about half an hour to get to the ship where the tankathlon sign-ups were taking pace. When the group walked up the ramp, they took a pause.

"Where exactly is this place?" Aurora inquired.

"Where else? In the school on this big boat." Cassidy answered.

"Lead the way."

Travel along the top-side of the ship revealed to them some idea of its country of origin. Street signs were written in English and a speed limit sign that passed stated the maximum speed for this particular road to be fifty kilometers an hour. This information narrowed down the possibilities.

"This ship is either from Canada, Australia, or the U.K." Aurora reasoned.

"Oh, I hope it's the U.K," Riley said with a smile. "Boys with British accents," she stopped to blush. "Makes me melt like butter."

Cassidy prevented a chuckle from escaping.

"I bet you listen to One Direction." she teased.

"Yes, I do!" Riley said confidently. "You have a problem with that?"

"Nope. I'll admit, those guys have a few hits among them."

"Oh! What's your favorite?"

"That's a tough one actually."

"Hold up," Aurora then interjected. "I think that's the school up ahead."

With the school in view, what would have been an insightful conversation on favorite pop songs has been interrupted. With time of the essence, the group picked up the pace and proceeded to the main entrance. There, was a large iron gate, flung open, whose design was from an older era. Mounted on it was the school's coat of arms, and more importantly, it's name.

Saint George Church of England Private Academy.

"Man, wonder where this ship is from." Aurora joked.

As the gate was open, they walked onto campus and found it sparse. The school day here has ended as well. The people they did see were some students who wore modest school uniforms along with some teachers. Though, it was what the teachers wore that made the group feel out of place. The teachers, all of them women, wore black robes with hoods covering their heads. What their clothing represented wasn't lost on any of them.

"Oooh, it's _that _type of school." Nathan remarked as he looked at the nuns.

"Man, I'm starting to feel underdressed." Aurora said with a little anxiety.

"Come on guys, it's not like we're going to church." Cassidy told them.

"Well, we're awfully close."

"Which building are we supposed to go to?" Avery then questioned.

"Room 27. Second floor," Cassidy looked ahead to see several buildings. "Okay. Um. There are quite a few multistory buildings."

They halted their walk to talk among themselves to determine their next course of action. They were on a time limit, so if they wasted too much time they'd be late to the team's meeting which could draw suspicions on their activities. As they chatted, they failed to notice one of the nuns that walked toward them. When she cleared her throat, the group all fell silent and faced her.

"You all seem lost," the nun said in a wonderful British accent. She looked no older than twenty-five. "Which leads me to believe that you aren't students here."

"Ah," Cassidy uttered. "We're not. We're here on business, to sign up for something."

"Curious," the nun remarked. "I'm not aware of anything like that occurring today."

"Really? I was told that there was."

"I'm afraid you've been misinformed."

"Great," Aurora said bitterly. "We just wasted our time."

"Calm down, dear. There is an event going on that might interest you all to make the trip worthwhile."

"What's that?"

"A student-lead Bible-study. Room 27."

"Bible study? No way—"

"—We'll miss that!" Cassidy said, taking over Aurora's speech. "Thank you, sister, for letting us know. Mind telling us which building Room 27 is?"

"It'll be my pleasure," the nun pointed down their path. "Follow the walkway down 'till you reach a turn. Take a right and you can't miss it. It's the Gregor Mendel building."

"Thank you kindly."

The nun left as the group pressed on and followed her directions. Once the nun was far enough away, Aurora walked next to Cassidy.

"What are you doing? A Bible-study? Really?" she asked her.

"I'm operating on a hunch here. So just trust me."

After a moment, Aurora gave her a nod. A brisk few minute walk delivered them to the building they were looking for. It was entered and when they reached the second floor saw a hallway with the doors flanked on either side closed shut, save for one. The group approached the open room cautiously and peered inside. There was a small group of students, Bibles in hand, reading as they listened to a more senior student provide explanations of the scripture they were reading.

"Cool," Aurora remarked in a whisper that was soaked in sarcasm. "Any of you guys wanna join in and learn about Jesus?"

A student from the room then appeared, spooking the group.

"Bible study?" she asked them. "...Or something else?"

Cassidy contemplated her response.

"Something else." she finally said.

The girl pointed to the door across the hall. The group went up to it and opened the door. Inside was another girl, alone, who was sitting at a teacher's desk. She had tanned skin and long black hair. She was busy with some papers when the group arrived.

"_¿Español o inglés?"_ the girl asked them.

_"Inglés." _Cassidy responded.

"Good. Always like an opportunity to speak English for more practice," the girl stood up from the desk. "You are here for tankathlon, yes? Or as well call it in Chile, _Pequeña lucha de tanques._"

"We are," Aurora said to her. "Boy, you keep things low-key around here. This school doesn't even know tankathlon sign-ups are happening right on its campus."

"It has to be that way as a way to protect us," the tankathlon organizer said with a serious tone. "In South America, Chile is the place that is more tolerable to tankathlon of tankathlon. But with a match in _las internacionales_ happening soon in Bolivia, Chilean ports are busier than ever. No doubt that among the visiting ships are tankery athletes who are...are, _ay, cuál es la palabra_..."

"Hardliners?" Cassidy suggested. "Traditionalist? Conservative?"

"_Si. Todo eso y mas,_" the organizer then gave Cassidy a sign-up sheet. "We've had those types of people try to stop our matches. Say that we're 'ruining' tankery and that we need to be put in our place. Something like that. They're wrong, obviously. There is nothing wrong with tankathlon. The girls who hate it are nothing more than stuck-up bitches."

"Amen to that," Aurora said with a grin. "We're open minded and want more action in our lives."

"You are open minded, I could tell the moment you all walked through the door," the organizer's eyes was on Nathan. "He wouldn't be here if he wasn't in tankery."

"Aaand that won't be an issue, right?" Cassidy said as she got between her brother and the organizer.

"I can't speak for everyone. Tolerating tankathlon is one thing. Tolerating boys in tankery is another thing entirely. For me, I don't care." the organizer stepped back and returned to her seat. Her eyes then squinted. "You're that American team, aren't you? In the tournament?"

"What, ah, what do you mean?"

"I, of course, follow the latest happenings in the world competition. I know that the American team has both boys and girls and that their next match is in Bolivia. And what do I see in this room? American tankery athletes with a boy among them. One plus one equals two, hmm?"

The group looked awkwardly at each other. Cassidy then slowly nodded.

"Alright...you got us."

She saw no point in lying. The organizer flashed a smile.

"So, the world tournament is too boring for you Americans? Even considering your country's history in this level of competition?"

"What's boring is the one month long intervals between matches. It feels like an eternity," Aurora explained to her. "We not only want more action, but also to keep our skills sharp."

"Understandable. Fill out that form then hand it to me to complete your registration. Bit of advice, it's very common for tankathlon teams to adopt fake names rather than just use the name of their school per the norm. You should definitely do it too as since you are in the tournament, people _will_ signal you out in a match."

"Gotcha."

The group got together to bash out a name for themselves.

"Can't call ourselves the Mojave Rose tankathlon team, huh?" Nathan said.

"No. We weren't gonna use that as our name anyway," Aurora told him. "Gotta keep things discreet."

Numerous suggestions were spouted out but none thus far was deemed suitable enough. As the girls brainstormed loudly, Nathan remained silent, though he was thinking just as hard as the rest. His mind wandered to his interests which led to his favorite subject in school. Chemistry. The field of science has been a favorite of his since when he was in elementary his class received chemistry lessons simplified for fourth graders. He grasped the concepts immediately and prospered. Now, at Catalina, he took AP Chemistry as his science class and was doing extremely well. Nathan wondered intensely if he could incorporate his joy of chemistry into the creation of the team's name. Then, it all clicked. They were doing tankathlon in secret and there was a secretive chemistry project that was famous in history. He reached for the sheet and wrote down what he thought up. All the girls looked at what he did.

"Manhattan Project?" Cassidy remarked, at first with some puzzlement, then grinned. "Oh man, Nathan, that's a good one. I'm all for it."

"Isn't that the project that made the atomic bomb?" Aurora asked.

"It is." Nathan answered plainly.

"Okay. Well. I don't have any other ideas so I guess we'll go with that."

The rest of the sign-up sheet was filled out and returned to the organizer. She reviewed it and had raised an eyebrow."

"One of your vehicles is a Puma. It's over the ten ton limit."

"What if we lighten the load?"

"If you can manage that, then yes. They'll be scales at the match staging area so your vehicle will be weighed prior to the start of the match."

The organizer stored the sheet into her briefcase and prepared to leave.

"Your match will be this Sunday against five other teams in a free-for-all setting. Further details will be sent to you later," she continued. The organizer went toward the door but stopped to look at them one more time. "For the boy's sake, I suggest you wear disguises of some sort."

She left before anyone of them could ask any further questions. There wasn't any time anyway. Cassidy checked the time and gasped.

"Guys. We gotta run. I mean_ run._"

_Later_

Today's meeting marked the Churchill's crew's second day with the team and they were progressing well. Thanks to Claudia's previous tankery experience and further assistance from people on the team that have been a part of it since day one, Claudia's crew were trained at an expedited level. They were already becoming comfortable with their roles in the tank which would only strengthen as time goes by.

Claudia stood by her tank as she tended to her uniform. Personally, she would've preferred a _much_ darker color scheme as the current color is an incredible tank color that blended perfectly with a desert environment. Of course, this makes sense as Mojave Rose was from a sandy part of California.

Once she sorted out her uniform, she then looked toward the Churchill. Specifically on the left side of its turret. It was the spot where the crew painted their callsign. A simple depiction of a tumbleweed with squiggly lines behind it to give off the impression it was moving fast. Speed. Something no one has ever associated with the Churchill.

She soon stopped her admiration of their art and went straight to her backpack. As she was a relatively new student to Mojave Rose, she was still in the process of getting settled in. She wanted to review the graduation requirements for the school

as she was a junior. Graduation day was gonna come sooner than she thinks and she wanted to make damn sure she got her diploma. From her binder, she got out the paper had the the information she was seeking, but it was something not related to the requirements that drew confusion from her. A feel that she had ever since she first learned she was going to Mojave Rose. Its emblem.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a man that she understood to be the vice-principal and now also fulfilled the role of educational liaison for the team as they are away for the internationals. She approached him.

"Hey, mind if you help me understand something?"

"If it's about tanks I can't help you there," Martin told her. "Ask Mrs. Redwood. Ask Valarie. Ask literally anyone else. They know way more than me."

"No, not that. What I'm wondering is about Mojave Rose."

"_That_, I can help you with."

"Alright. So, broadly, this team is called 'Dust Devils', right?"

"Yep."

"And 'Dust Devils' is also another term to refer to the students of Mojave Rose, right?"

"Right."

"So. Tell me this. How did a name like that come into existence when the school's emblem is a grizzly bear with a rose in its mouth?"

Martin smiled as he leaned against a wall.

"There's a story behind that, but first, some background. Mojave Rose High School was first established in Barstow, California in the year 1959. Back then, we didn't go by 'Dust Devils'. We went by the 'Mojave Bears'.

"Not the most creative, but decent enough."

"Yeah, it wasn't that bad at all. Fast forward to 1970. By then, Mojave Rose was operating a tankery team. It wasn't exactly like ours as they only focused on regional matches. One such match was in Death Valley, our school against another from Corona. From what I can gather, it was a close match that culminated in an intense firefight in the sand dunes where Mojave Rose won the day. After the match, the opposing team's captain made this comment. 'Goddamn. They were caked in dust and fought like devils.'"

Claudia laughed a little.

"So that's where it came from, huh?"

"Yup. The team renamed themselves to 'Dust Devils' soon thereafter. It wasn't long before the name came to also refer to the student body of Mojave Rose. We've wore the name proud ever since."

"That's a damn cool story. So, why hasn't the school's logo change to like a devil or something?"

"Here's the thing. Some parents back then didn't like the name. It was the 'devil' part they found issue with. But they tolerated it. Barely. Changing the logo to a devil, no matter how cartoony we could make it be, would be crossing the line. Nowadays we could maybe do it without much push back, but at this point the bear has represented the school for so long already."

"Gotcha. Thanks for the history lesson."

"You're welcome! It's one of my most favorite stories to tell."

Claudia returned to her crew to both help them out and further familiarize herself being the Churchill's commander. In an other section of the garage, where the T-44 was parked, Valarie sat upon the turret. With a pen in hand, she worked on the team's strategy for their match against the Swiss later in the month. When she was like this, it was a sign to everyone in the garage that she was not to be disturbed as she needed all of her concentration to craft the best possible strategy. So consumed in her work that she was oblivious to the nearby Puma and AMR crews who looked liked they finished a marathon in record time, her thoughts dominated by the detailed map of the area of engagement covered with markings and notes. There was something about physical maps that Valarie couldn't get enough of. So much so that she made it a policy for all tanks on the team to have physical copies of maps of the matches they were taking part in as a backup.

The T-44's loader's hatch flung open and Emma popped out. She gave Valarie a playful prod on her thigh. She was the sole exemption of the unofficial rule that Valarie was not to be disturbed.

"How's it going? Is the winning strategy ready to go?"

Valarie responded with a light laugh.

"Let's not call it the winning strategy until after we win the match...if we win that is. We can never assume such a thing."

"Well, yeah. I was just teasing you. So, what are we up against?"

"From the research I've done on Dunant, I learned that their tankery team exclusively operates German armor."

"So we can expect anything from little Panzer IIs to King Tigers?"

"Not necessarily," Valarie showed Emma the map. "The battlefield is one a salt flat with the only cover available a few scattered prehistoric islands. Just by looking at the terrain, you can already long-range engagements will be the name of the game.

"A sniping match, huh? So the Swiss won't field anything with low-velocity guns. We can expect things like Panzer IIIs and IVs with the long-barrled 50 and 75mm respectively, Panthers, Tigers, et cetera."

Valarie leaned over and gave Emma a huge kiss on her cheek.

"You're exactly right," Valarie said in a loving voice that made her girlfriend swoon. Emma expected more affection but was disappointed to find Valarie was again reviewing the map and making strokes with her pen. "I know what we'll be doing. Island hopping."

"...Huh?"

"Dunant has artillery, Hummel self propelled guns. They'll for sure be fielding them. We'll be using the prehistoric islands as a defensive position, to dare them to come. Once they are at the maximum effective range of our guns, we fire two volleys and reposition to another island. If we stay on an island for too long, their artillery will ruin us. And I'm sure a certain someone we know would_ hate_ that."

"Yeah, I'd rather not have our driver race across a salt flat to ram into a Hummel."

"Mmmhmm. When those barrages come, and they will come, we'll need to comfort Heather the best we can."

"She's been on the team as long as me and you. By now, I'm sure she's gotten used to such things."

"Used to what?" said Heather from below, looking straight into Emma's eyes.

"Um," Emma hesitated. "You know, explosions. Shells whistling by. That sort of thing."

"Not every explosion. You both know that."

Valarie tapped her fingers on the turret roof. Anxious.

"Yes. We do. But, you've come so far since our first match, right?"

Heather looked at them both for several moments. She felt a tad bit suspicious, but not enough to continue asking questions. It was late in the day and in that moment, wanted nothing more than to just rest.

"I have," she told them in a low voice, then yawned. "I still got a lot more work to do to become the person I want to be. But I'll get there. I can feel it."

The meeting winded down and soon thereafter the team was dismissed. They'll need their energy for tomorrow's practice. Especially for one girl, whose more than excited to take to the skies.

.

.

.

_That Night_

_20 Kilometers from the Port of Iquique_

_Golden Gate's School Carrier_

The student council room for Golden Gate Institute of Technology was in a layout similar to the one onboard Catalina. But it was the president that made the mood in the room so completely different. Two people were in the room. Juliana, sat in her seat, an executive chair that would be fitting for some soulless corporate CEO. Cassandra sat across from her, in a chair that was purposely chosen to make her look up to Juliana. The symbolism here was something Cassandra wasn't blind to.

Cassandra was told by Juliana to come here. She was initially annoyed as it was nearing ten in the evening, but then reasoned it must be something important as why else would Juliana summon her at this hour.

"By the early morning, this ship will make port in Chile. The same port Catalina is." Juliana informed.

"Is...is that why you called me to come here?"

"No," Juliana brought her hands together stood straight in her chair. Behind her was a large glass window that showed the black sea. "Something has been on my mind for the past few weeks. It's about that tankery team you have so more love for."

"What about them?" Cassandra said in a near growl.

"More specifically, about their captain. You see, it was her that made Viola commit to transfer to Catalina rather than Golden Gate. Her potential, all but squandered. She was there when Viola told me, 'I'm transferring to Catalina because I like the tankery captain.'"

"Okay, that sucks. But that was last month. You're still angry about that? Aren't there more people from royal backgrounds from you to recruit?"

Juliana slammed her fist onto the table, shaking it. Cassandra shut her mouth.

"Madison humiliated me," Juliana stood up and laid her hands on the table to support her. "Now, her sister has done it too. Humiliate _me_. Robbing Viola from my god damn grasp."

"...Got it. She is already a target for us though."

"No, not us. She's mine, you hear? You don't touch her. She'_s my _target, my victim. I want to be the one to bring her hurt. I want to make her regret ever being related to that rancid bitch Madison."

"Y-yup. She's all yours. I'll focus on the boys on Mojave Rose's team."

"Deal," Juliana said as she calmed down and sat back down. "I've already got something to work on regarding their captain."

"What's that?"

"It's what she said to me when we met last month. When I asked her a question about being a tankery captain."

"And her answer was?"

"All sorts of things in my personal life can influence how I conduct the sport and draft up my strategies. Good...and bad," Juliana said verbatim what Valarie told her. "Did you catch it?"

Cassandra processed what she heard but could only give a shrug.

"Uh. No."

"It's what she said at the end," Juliana told her as a small grin started to form. "That pause. She had something bad happen in her personal life and I fully intend to find out what that was."

"Where you'll then exploit it."

"Oh I'll exploit the hell out of it. Once I find out what happened to her, I'll use it against her. To belittle her. To make her feel worthless. To make her cry. Maybe I can mess with her mind enough to ruin it, so that she won't be able to effectively command. Do to her what she has done to me. Humiliation."

A plan was set.

Valarie and Juliana were now on a collision course.


	72. Chapter 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no going back from this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I want to take the time to inform you all that this story now has cover art. Refer to Chapter 1 to see it! :)
> 
> Happy Holidays!

_Saturday, September 14th 2013_

The sun has barely crested over the horizon and the Mojave Rose tankery team were already at Inspiration Park for practice, though they did have several minutes to spend before things got truly underway. With their tanks parked closely together, most members of the team took the time to perform additional prep work, others ate a light breakfast and quietly chatted among themselves. That's the key word. _Quietly_. As a some members were using the short time they had to squeeze in a few more minutes of sleep, those that were awake did their activities as noiselessly as they can. The relative silence matching the calm that mornings were known for. It would all be shattered when the sound of a whooping alarm filled the air followed by a computerized voice.

_"Terrain. Terrain. Pull Up! Pull Up!"_

Heads turned toward the SU-14.

"For the love of god, Jacqueline!" decried Amber, fidgeting nervously behind her commander. "Pull up! That thing costs over six thousand dollars!"

"We're fiiine," Jacqueline responded incredibly nonchalantly. "I'm just putting the thing through its paces."

"You're gonna crash! And since that thing runs on actual fuel, it's gonna be ugly!"

"Relaax."

Prior to the team driving out to Inspiration Park, a large package was placed near the SU-14. Upon latching eyes on it, Jacqueline raced toward it and like a rabid kid on Christmas morning, tore open the packaging and revealed the box that was encased within. When she read the labeling on it, she squealed with pure delight.

_Lockheed SR-71 'Blackbird' 1/12 RC Model Jet_

It wasn't too long after when the plane was free from its box and placed on the garage floor. From nose to tail it was over eight feet long, which proved to be enough of a spectacle of its own as people from the team would come over and lay down next to it to compare their size to the plane. It was made from the exact same type of aviation-grade aluminum alloy used to manufacture airplanes such as the Boeing 737, painted in the identical color scheme that gave the Blackbird its name; dark blue.

The RC plane was powered by a pair of small turbojets. If a person wanted to buy just one of the engines and nothing else, then they would need to be prepared to shell out two thousand dollars. These engines could either run on diesel or kerosene and when they were activated, their exhaust fumes could reach temperatures of seven hundred degrees Celsius, or nearly thirteen hundred degrees Fahrenheit.

It's landing gear, too, mimicked the real deal. They were not simple wheels, but actual tires. The box came with an small air compressor with the operating manual specifying the exact PSI that is to be maintained for optimal performance.

All in all, these features and components would very much justify the overall price for the RC Blackbird, but there was more.

What was also in the box was a large, bulky briefcase. When opened, it showed that it wasn't just the plane that was sophisticated. The top portion had a monitor mounted to it, with the bottom containing the controls. A throttle, a control sick, and a whole host of buttons and switches. In all, it was a condensed cockpit made to fit in a briefcase. The complexity would make anyone shy away, but for Jacqueline, she gravitated toward it and immediately worked to get familiar with everything.

When the team were still in the garage, she got the plane ready. As she fueled it with diesel, Jacqueline was in thought. Everyone who came to see the plane up close showed great enthusiasm and when she explained to them how the aircraft could benefit the team, gave her their support. That was all fine and good, but even if the team gave their unanimous support for usage of the plane, it could all be rendered moot by a single 'no' from Valarie. She had the final say.

Valarie's thoughts toward tankathlon has spread and now everyone knew. A protective measure for the team's best interest. Aerial recon was something very few tankery teams do, and Jacqueline had this worry that because of how rarely it was utilized, Valarie would disallow the use of the plane for the same reason that the team would not do tankathlon.

When Valarie walked over the see the plane for herself, Jacqueline mentally prepared a list of arguments to use in favor for use of the plane. She stood nearby as she watched Valarie examine the Blackbird. She knelt by the thing for a minute in silence when she then rose, looked toward Jacqueline, and showed a smile.

"I like this thing." Valarie told her.

"So...can we use it in our matches?" Jacqueline asked.

Valarie looked back at the Blackbird. "Sure. Let's do it."

"Oh! Really!?"

"Can't say no to another scout on the team and aerial recon isn't something forbidden in the rules. In fact, the international tankery rulebook has a small section dedicated to just that.

"Yeah, I read that."

"Then you know about the maximum altitude aerial recon is to be performed."

"One hundred meters. I'm guessing not to interfere with the flight paths of those supply planes."

"That, and another thing. To allow for retaliation."

"Come again?"

"The low altitude is to give the opposing team the opportunity to shoot you down with their machine guns, or even their main cannon if they feel lucky."

"A real Blackbird has never been shot down, so I won't let this model one be the first."

"That's good to hear. Use practice today to get familiar and I'll modify our strategy to incorporate it. I got a feeling it'll allow us to become much more proactive...oh, and one more thing. If the plane does get shot down, the opposing team isn't liable to pay for repairs."

"Lovely."

Now, with Valarie's approval, Jacqueline set out to do what was requested of her. Get familiar. The moment the team arrived at Inspiration Park, she set up the briefcase, plane, and radio transmitter. The Blackbird was placed a good deal away from the team, on a long stretch of dirt to serve as a rudimentary runway, and prepared for take-off. Controls active, engines hot, she moved forward with the throttle and the craft raced down the runway and shot up into the sky. Aloft, she found the Blackbird very responsive to the controls and obeyed her inputs without delay. Her crew watched from behind as she flew, sharing with her emotions of excitement joy, which was soon replaced with terror when the alarms blared.

Amber begged her to get out of her dive which she did do with her pulling back on the stick. The screen displayed that the aircraft was now level.

"Oh thank god." Amber said with a strong exhale.

Not even a moment of calm could be enjoyed when Amber glanced at the indicated air speed. It reported the Blackbird was going at one hundred and ten miles per hour.

"Geez, you're going too fast!"

"Man, what's the point of having a jet if you _don't _go fast?" Jacqueline responded to her.

"Just be careful."

"I will. Don't you worry."

"That's gonna be very hard to do."

As Jacqueline and her crew focused on all things airplane related, the rest of the team proceeded to get practice underway. Like with every time a new crew joins the team, Valarie's attention was spent on the Churchill. In the T-44, she monitored the tank as it went through a designated driving course that involved tight turns, gullies that were to be crossed, and hills to be climbed. The Churchill conducted itself well enough, with Valarie only having to say a few words of advice over the radio. The reason why was something she fully understood. Claudia's previous tankery experience. Something that Valarie was interested in learning more about, and she would get her chance. Once the Churchill completed the course, they were ordered to stop and for Claudia to come out.

"What's up, girl?" Claudia greeted, she then put on a cautious face. "I hope you're not one of those people who insist to be called 'captain' every time they are spoken too."

Valarie chuckled. "Nope. We're not super formal on this team."

"Good, 'cause back in middle school the captain of the team I was on was such an hardass, like, oh my god, so damn annoying. 'It's Captain Whitaker, Newmaker.' 'Why don't you treat me with respect, Newmaker?'. God. Fuck off with that. This is a sport, not the damn army...Newmaker is my last name by the way, in case you didn't catch it."

"Uh, yeah, I caught it. Rest assured that nothing like that will happen here."

"That's the vibe I'm feeling here," Claudia said as she looked toward the other tanks on the team, taking a close look of each of them. "The pain schemes of your tanks vary. Your T-44 is in its Soviet olive green, as is the IS-3 and SU-100, the VK has a coat of dunkelgrau, dark gray on it, the Panther II looks badass it's turret having its red primer coat out and proud. And so on. In my old team, all the tanks were painted with the same exact paint job."

Valarie shrugged. "It's something we never really thought about. Now, I think people have become attached to the color schemes of their tanks. Besides, the Panther II crew would _never_ want to have their unique paint job be covered up. So, we can never really adopt a universal camouflage."

"Well I like it. There's good vibes with this team, damn are they good! I knew a tankery team didn't need all the rigid formality to become successful. Take that mom."

"Oh? Did you mom do tankery?"

"Nah. She reads a lot about it though and gives me tips and advice," Claudia sighed. "She means well, whatever she is reading is a type of tankery I don't like. Way too formal for my taste. Before I left to join you guys, she gave me a book she bought for me. It's about all the 'proper' ways a tankery team is to operate. Ugh, whoever it wrote must have no shreds of emotion in 'em."

"Who's to say what's the right way to do things?"

"Exactly! I have that book in my bag back in the garage. Maybe I'll give it to you to see just how ridiculous it is."

"Please do, I'd love to read it. Now, before we get further sidetracked, it's time for some gunnery practice."

"Hell yeah, let's go!"

~Line break

A few hours have elapsed and the team were having their break. For two tanks, however, their work continued. The Puma and AMR were parked right next to each other, their crews all sat together on the ground underneath the shade of nearby trees. Earlier in the morning, Cassidy received a text message from the tankathlon organizer they had met yesterday that detailed match information. Thankfully, the match they signed up for was to take place just beyond the city limits of Iquique in the hilly terrain to the east. It was scheduled to begin at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. So, the two crews discussed how to leave with their vehicles to the match discreetly.

"What we know for sure is that no one will be in the garage tomorrow," Aurora informed them all. "Mr. and Mrs. Redwood are never in their office doing work on Sundays."

"That's good," Cassidy remarked. "But how do we get in the garage? It'll be locked."

"I got a solution for that." Aurora showed them all a lockpicking set.

"We're gonna break in our own garage?" Riley said astonishingly.

"It's not how I wanted to do it," Aurora said. "I looked for the spare key for the garage but I couldn't find it and I wasn't gonna ask people where it was because that'd draw suspicion on us. We'll use the lockpick to get into the garage through a side-door."

"Okay, so we got a path to get in," Cassidy said. "Once we get in our vehicles, we'll have to drive a route that has us _far_ away from the team's apartments as we get off this ship and to the match."

"Are we gonna get in trouble when we drive to the match?" Nathan then said. "Like, you know, driving on the roads on the mainland."

"It shouldn't be a problem. Other tanks from other teams will be heading that place too, so we won't be like 'fish out of water'."

"Okay, good."

"So, what about disguises like that organizer said?" Avery inquired.

"I got just the thing." Cassidy said with a grin.

She went to the AMR and disappeared briefly inside the tank before returning with black clothing. In her hands was a balaclava with only a hole for the eyes and a pair of stretchy polyester gloves. Nathan looked excited while the rest looked at her with surprise.

"We gonna rob a bank on the way to the match?" Riley joked.

"That'd be funny if Nathan didn't already drill that joke into the ground when I got these," Cassidy said. "Look, we need to cover our faces to hide our identities. Not one person can know that we're from Mojave Rose. We'll also need to wear something over our uniforms as an extra precaution, though I don't know what exactly."

"The ponchos!" Aurora then exclaimed

"The what?" Cassidy asked, confused.

"The team has wet weather ponchos. We can wear them to hide our uniforms."

"Awesome! We got our disguises all figured out now."

"Ah, there is still one more thing to address," Avery said. She looked toward Nathan. "What if there are girls at our match who don't like boys in tankery? What do we do about that?"

"Hmm," Cassidy hummed. All the girls looked at Nathan, which didn't exactly make him comfortable. "Well, we'll just say he's a girl."

"Huh?" Nathan sounded.

"Yeah, it can work," Cassidy continued. "We'll all be wearing disguises anyway."

"But," Riley then said. "He doesn't have, um, well, you know." she gestured toward her chest.

Cassidy understood. "Right. Hmm...oh! We'll say he hasn't hit puberty yet."

"You think people will believe that?" Aurora asked.

"I suppose we could also—"

"No way will I stuff something down my shirt." Nathan declared. He knew full well what his sister was about to suggest.

"Fine," Cassidy told him. "You better put on the best feminine voice you can in case someone talks to you."

"I'll do my best."

"Gotcha, _Natalie_."

"Don't. You. Start."

They all, save for Nathan, shared some laughs.

"So. We're ready then?" Aurora said. "We move out at midnight."

"You lightened the load of your Puma" Cassidy asked her.

"We removed the radio, the coaxial machine gun, ammo for said machine gun, the smoke grenade launchers, the spare wheel on the back, and half the ammo for the 50mm. For communication, I'll use a hand-held radio tuned to your frequency. All of our work should bring us under the ten ton limit. Man, feel like we're about to race again."

"Alright, then," Cassidy rose and cracked her knuckles. "Midnight."

~Line break

What Heather liked to do when the team was on break was simple; lay on top of the T-44 and bask in the sun. It was times like this that allowed her to reflect. To think. And she has been doing a whole lot of thinking as the clue has been bouncing around her head for days now.

_"You'd have to be as mad as a hatter to fly this thing."_

Heather has inputted dozens of possible answers, all names of experimental aircraft. Dozens of attempts. Dozens of failures. It was frustrating, of course, but there was also an aspect of enjoyment in all of this. Attempting to solve a mystery can never be boring. Still, she would appreciate a hint to go along the clue to set her down the right path. Heather was fairly sure it was the name of some kind of aircraft, though it could also refer to something never meant to fly, but she tried her best to ignore that as it made the possible list of answers far too daunting.

Emma and Valarie has since been aware of what was going on. Emma's reaction was what Heather and Ashley expected; she was interested and had a desire to help out however she can, though she too drew up blanks when presented with the clue. For Valarie. Well, suffice to say, their ears are still ringing when they told her that the mystery lead to an A7V. It was her favorite tank of all-time, after all.

"I got it." Ashley said, who was laid right next to her.

"What?" asked Heather

"We can brute force the password for that website. I know how to code. I can whip up a program that'll go through a list of names for experimental aircraft to input in the website. We'll bust right through before the weekend is up."

"That's not in the spirit of things," Heather remarked. "It's not fun either."

Ashley groaned. "Fine...fine. We'll just keep guessing at random then. We'll get it eventually. It'll just take way longer."

The two gaze up at the sky, watching the flying clouds meander by. The vestiges of summer was fading fast with the autumn season fast approaching, with the occasional chilly gust of wind serving as a sneak peak. In the distance, the sound of the Blackbird flying could be heard.

"Could it that?" Ashley suggested. "Blackbird?"

Heather shook her head. "Already tried."

"Damn."

"You guys still brainstorming, huh?" Valarie said from below.

"Yeah, and it seems like we're going no where." Heather said with a small sigh.

"But we'll figure it out," Ashley said confidently. She then turned toward Valarie. "Just promise us you won't scream like a banshee when we figure it out, okay?"

"I, uh," Valarie turned red. "I was just excited. That's all."

"Excited like a damn erupting volcano."

"I really like the A7V."

"Oh, we're all _very_ aware of that fact."

Before Valarie could further respond, she felt a vibration in her pocket. She was getting a call. Valarie checked who was calling, moved toward the trees for privacy, and promptly answered.

"Hey mom!"

"Val, honey," her mother's voice was beyond soothing. "Just wanted to call and check up on ya. What time is it over where you are? It's about to be seven-thirty here."

"We're five hours ahead, about to be twelve-thirty."

"You guys are doing your practice right about now, right?"

"Yup. Been at it for a few hours now, currently on a break. How have you been, mom? Work good?"

"Well, I can't complain about work. Clock in, clock out, Monday through Friday. It all blurs together really," her mother paused for a few moments. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Valarie responded. She could feel her throat tighten just a touch. "Where's dad?"

"Next to me. Asleep. He came home late last night after hours of driving, so he's knocked out. He'll call you later."

"Got it."

"So," her mother then said. "I'll be honest with you. Your absence from home has hit us harder than we thought. I keep walking into your room fully expecting to see you only to find an empty bed. It's, uh, it's not the best feeling. You got any idea the soonest you'll come home? We also miss Madison, too. We'd love to spend more time with her."

"There is a break in the tournament in December for the holidays. For sure will the ship return back to Long Beach where I'll race back home."

"December? That's two months away. That means you'll miss Thanksgiving."

"Well, there is always a chance that a future match of ours will be set in America so that way I could come home sooner that way...we could also lose. We'll definitely go home if that happens."

"Obviously I don't want you guys to lose. We'll have to wait for December. We'll spend Christmas and the New Years together...oh, I'm excited already!"

"Me too!"

"Alright. I'm gonna leave you to it, honey. Do what you do best. Love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

"Bye."

The call came to an end with Valarie remaining where she stood for a few more moments after. She had always known that her parents deeply missed her the moment she first left for the internationals, but after her mother's call, now had a deeper understanding. Empty nest syndrome has hit her parents hard. The day she heads home cannot come soon enough. But she will do _everything_ to not come head home in defeat. She won't even entertain the thought.

"You alright?" Emma asked her. She wrapped her arm around her's.

"I am," Valarie answered. "Just got done talking with my mom."

"Nice. How are your parents?"

"They're alright. My mom has been wondering when's the soonest this ship will go back to California."

"Not like 'till December, right?"

"Right...they miss me. A lot."

"I miss my parents too. Everyone on the team misses their family back home."

"Yeah...," Valarie brought her hands together and took in a breath. "We're all going through the same thing. When December comes, oh man, it'll be a _great_ time."

"Oh yeah!" exclaimed Emma. She then checked her phone. "We have a few more minutes of our break...and I did bring that radio Madison gave you. I wonder if Miss Vickers is on the air?"

"Let's find out, shall we?"

The pair returned to the T-44 where Emma retrieved the radio from within the machine. It was powered on and tuned to the appropriate frequency. Static was soon replaced by the voice of a familiar British woman.

_"—oaltion teams. That's the full details on what those are. There a few teams like that in the internationals. Speaking of which. What's going on in the internationals? That's why you guys tune in right? Anyway! Yesterday was a high-profile match between Russia and China in the sands of Egypt. These two tankery teams, highly trained, full of experienced, and well-funded, ensured that the match was nothing short of pure entertainment. By the end, it was Russia that won and they move on to the next round. In that match, the Russian team fielded the seldom-seen Uralmash-1 self-propelled gun. If you don't know what that is, think of it as Russia's take on Germany's Ferdinand. They had a pair of 'em, one with a 100mm gun, and the other with a 122mm."_

"What kind of name is Uralmash for a vehicle?" Emma wondered.

"Uralmash," Valarie repeated. "Otherwise known as SU-101."

Miss Vickers continued.

_"Wanna know something else about the Russian team? Their instructor. Oh dear, is her __résumé_ _ impressive. A Second World War veteran as a result from being a former Soviet tankery athlete who was pressed into service after the German invasion of the Soviet Union. From 1941 to 1945, she served in a tank unit, first with a T-34 Model 1940 before getting a much needed upgrade with a T-34-85. She was at Stalingrad. Kursk. Berlin. That alone would be highly impressive, but she didn't stop when the war was over. When she got discharged, she assumed a position as tankery instructor of a school in Moscow. She's still the instructor. She's ninety! One more thing. She's the instructor of the same Russian team that the American team defeated back in 1975. So, if anyone of the current American team is listening...watch out. No doubt they're itching for some payback."_

Valarie shut off the radio. "Maybe listening to the radio was a mistake."

"You know what," Emma said. "I think you're right. Let's get practice resumed, hmm?"

"Yeah. Let's do that."

_Later _

More hours have passed and exhaustion has gripped each and every member of the team. A good indicator that practice has come to an end. The team drove back to the garage and parked their machines in the desginated spaces. Valarie hopped off the T-44 and stretched. Another practice completed. It always gave her feelings of satisfaction, and what added to it was the perfomance of the new crew. Claudia's previous experience has greatly helped in getting the Churchill crew up to speed. Claudia was also quickly becoming known among the entire team. For one, she was incredibly talkative and would somehow manage to slip in some morbid fact she read just to see the reactions of those she was talking to. Also, her more liberal use of strong language certainly left some on the team blushing in surprise.

She's definitely an acquired taste. But no doubt capable of being a commander.

With all the tanks parked, members of the team made their way back home. In a matter of minutes, the garage went from being filled with over sixty people to now only having a handful who lingered a bit. Valarie, with Emma right by her side as she wanted to go home together, was taking some extra time to inspect the exterior of the T-44. Such a thing was normally done by Heather, but her and Ashley bolted back to their apartment to get back to work solving the clue.

As Valarie performed her inspection, the sound of hurried walking caught her attention and made her turn toward the source. It was Claudia with a book in her hand, holding it by just two fingers as if the piece of literature revolted her. In a certain way, it did.

"Yo Val," Claudia said. "Here's the book I talked about earlier."

Valarie was handed the book.

"Read it and just laugh at how ridiculous it is," Claudia continued. "It's so freaking mechanical, man."

Valarie laughed. "This is gonna be fun—"

She stopped herself from uttering another word when she finally looked at the cover. Her eyes were transfixed as she read the title repeatedly to thoroughly ensure that didn't make some mistake when she initially read it. She didn't misread. The book's title read,

_Fundamental operations of a Sensha-dō team; The translated works of Shiho Nishizumi_

_"I'm sorry," _Valarie said in her mind. _"I didn't know. I didn't know."_

She repeated that apology a thousand times to herself. The book was then tucked securely between her arms.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to borrow this book."

"Hell, you can keep it," Claudia said. "I'm never gonna read it."

"I might just read it cover to cover."

Claudia was surprised and grew a bit concerned. "You're not gonna take the advice from the book and implement it, right? I like the team how it is."

"It'll be interesting to read someone else's perspective on the sport. Just want to learn. I won't be changing a damn thing about this team. I like how us how we are."

Claudia blew a sigh of relief. "Great. I was worried for a second there. Catch you later!"

With Claudia's departure, it left Valarie and Emma now alone in the garage. The pair closed down the building and made their way back home. When they arrived, the two showered, had dinner, and sat together in the couch in the living room to spend the rest of their evening. Emma would soon fall asleep, but Valarie would stay up. She had a lot of reading to do.

.

.

.

_Midnight_

Nothing but darkness fully enveloped the garage. All was quiet, all was still. That is until there was then a jiggle coming from one of the side doors. It's lock was being manipulated and after a few minutes of resistance, relented and was opened. In entered in five people. The Manhattan Project.

"The lock was easier than I thought," Aurora remarked. "That's kinda concerning."

"No time to think about that," Cassidy told her. "We gotta move fast."

"Right!"

The group donned on the balaclavas and gloves Cassidy had squired for them. The only thing exposed to the air was now their eyes. To complete their disguise, they wore the rain ponchos that were stored in a crate. The ponchos were dark green in color which added to the overall mystique of what the group was doing.

Aurora went to a panel that controlled the large garage door and after a brief moment of hesitation, pressed it. The loud sounds of machinery filled the area as the door opened. The group wasted no time. The AMR and Puma, each already prepped and fueled, were started and drove out of the garage. Aurora then pressed the button again to close the garage and got out when the doors closed behind her. She climbed onto the Puma and got into hero usual position.

"Follow us," Aurora said to Cassidy. "We'll drive off the ship in a way that no one on the team will see us from the apartment complex."

"Copy that."

With excited laughter, the AMR and Puma drove on. On the empty roads on the ship, passed by buildings closed and devoid of life, and made it down to the docks without seeing another soul. Emboldened, the duo of machines sped up and raced toward the outskirts of the city.

On to a tankathlon match.

All done in secret.

They were past the point of no return.


End file.
